Disparate
by kittykatloren
Summary: She was young, she was alone, she was in pain - but she was strong. That was undeniable. Daine/Numair; modern AU, 9-part series of oneshots. Please give this a try, even if modern AUs aren't your thing.
1. I

**A/N:** All right, this is a really big, interesting project for me. Usually, modern AUs bug me. But I was struck my this idea when walking home one day and it wouldn't go away, so I began to write it. And it just exploded and grew in to way more than I intended - which is actually really fun. So, here is my next big Daine/Numair TP piece.

It'll be multiple chapters. This is just the first part. It's oneshots, going chronologically as best I can, somewhat connected and varied. I have a lot of it already written, but lots still to go, so I don't know how many chapters it'll be. I'll try to get out one chapter a week, maybe one every two weeks? We'll see. I'll try to keep chapters around the same length: 2,500 words. The rating is a little bit "just-in-case" and more applies to what will come.

Anyway, please give this a try, even if you were like me and not much in to modern AUs. I've done my best to make it smooth and realistic. Please, please tell me what you think - does it feel natural? In character? Thank you!

Hope you enjoy, here goes nothing!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, they belong to Tamora Pierce; this applies to all chapters to come as well!

**EDITED**

* * *

Stars glittered coldly overhead, distant and uncaring. The night was darkly oppressive - quiet and still. It was a smooth, unbroken blackness; there was no moon or stray window-light to bathe the world in an eerie glow. Only one person was venturing through the shadows. A young girl who could not have been more than thirteen years old took cautious steps forward, her bare feet padding lightly against the asphalt. She wore old, ragged clothes, and carried a dark backpack that looked as if it had seen better days. She was alone, save for a stony-colored kitten that prowled by her side, its vivid hazel eyes like lamps in the darkness.

The girl glanced from dark house to dark house. The pitch-black gloom was no obstruction to her – she'd always been able to see well at night. She stole silently across the street, stopping in front of the dark form of someone's truck parked in the road. Circling it, the girl inspected it closely, her eyes flicking to the house nearby. The house was large, certainly, but unkempt. All the paint was chipping and peeling. Many shingles were loose, and an upstairs window looked as if it had been shattered by a wandering baseball. In the front yard, weeds commanded the ground, creeping across the grass and devouring everything in sight. A few ivy-covered trees that had never seen shears towered up from behind the house's weary roof.

It was probably deserted. Every other house in this neighborhood was smaller, but much better taken care of. All appeared inhabited. This one, however, did not. Even though there wasn't a _For Sale_ sign in the yard, the girl figured it was her safest bet. The truck was in the same condition as the house – perhaps it, too, was rarely used. It would be so much better than the ground.

Shivering in the cold, she climbed up into the back of the truck. She pushed away all the clutter, clearing out a small corner for herself. With a sigh, she dropped her backpack and settled onto it like a pillow. The kitten curled up beside her.

"G'night, Cloud," the girl murmured sleepily.

The kitten purred and brushed her tail across the girl's arm. Smiling, the girl ran her hand over tousled gray fur until the gentle purring, steady breathing, and soft warmth lulled the girl into sleep. Everything around her faded – the darkness, the cold, the memories.

She welcomed the brief oblivion.

* * *

A man was lying sprawled across his bed, leaping awake when an alarm clock buzzed jarringly from his bedside table. Sheets tangled all around him as he rose. Cursing, he fumbled around until he located the off button. With one swift push, there was peace at last. Sighing, he tried to drift back into his dream – it had been unusual. Intriguing. He had dreamed he was in a dense forest, alone, save for a gray cat with burning amber-green eyes. The cat would stare at him relentlessly until he took a step forward, and then it would whip around and disappear into the endless woods. Every time he tried to follow, he would get hopelessly lost among the towering trees, alive with wind and rustling leaves – but then the cat would appear again, its eyes striking and challenging. He had never had any other dream like it before.

He didn't have dreams often in the first place, anyway. He was usually too exhausted. But now that he was awake, his mind refused to rest any longer. Grumbling irritably, he climbed out of bed and dragged himself over to the mirror. A man in his mid-late twenties stared back at him, black hair mussed due to too much sleep, and dark eyes red due to a _lack_ of sleep. He had swarthy skin and was grateful for it; he never had to worry about looking pale in approaching winters. After splashing water over his face, forcing a brush through his hair and pulling it all back, he threw on decent clothes and looked somewhat presentable. He'd have preferred to have more time to look his best. It was always a balance, though - sleeping in or having more time to prepare. One or the other. Never both, of course. Today, it seemed like he'd chosen sleeping in. He sighed and grabbed an apple, his car keys, and his briefcase.

By the time he stepped out into his overgrown front yard, he had completely forgotten his odd dream. The morning cold clawed through his jacket, slung haphazardly over his broad shoulders. Sighing, his used one hand to pull it tighter around himself in a pitiful attempt to block out the chill. Out on the street, his truck – desperately in need of some work and a wash – blinked as he clicked it on. Checking his watch, he realized he was running late and picked up his pace, hurrying around the back to reach the driver's side. The back of his truck was full of junk and clutter as usual. He passed by it without even a second glance.

Then he whipped around. It wasn't the just the same junk.

There was a girl. She was small, a young teenager, not old enough to be on her own. Not young enough to be lost. She had curly brown hair that fell all the way down to her elbows, dark with dirt and tangles. Fair skin was coated with a thin layer of dust. There were goosebumps all along her bare arms, and her small, roughed-up feet stuck out as well, exposed to the cold. The clothes she wore couldn't have provided much warmth, either. Every inch was torn and threadbare. But she was sound asleep, her slow, steady breathing floating visibly from pink lips and tickling the matted gray fur of a kitten by her side. Tiny hands fisted on the straps of her backpack. A slender body curled around the cat, as if her bag and her companion were all she had. Her face was smooth and calm in sleep, but he could see a delicate nose, stubborn chin, and pink cheeks brushed by dark eyelashes. She was thin – too thin. She looked worn and exhausted - exhausted enough to be willing to sleep in a stranger's truck. He blinked, the cold forgotten as he stared.

Fumbling, he pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed one of the few numbers he had memorized. The phone rang five times – his heart speeding up a little with each tone – until, at last, a groggy voice made it to his ears.

"What the hell are you doing, Numair? It's barely six in the morning."

"Onua, listen, I need you to come over here. "

Her voice was still slurred with sleep, but Numair could tell that Onua was rapidly shifting into her usual, snappy self. "Come over there? Are you insane? You just woke me up!"

"Onua, _listen_," hissed Numair urgently. "There's – there's a girl in the back of my truck and - "

"Numair, it's not my problem if you were too drunk to remember who you slept with last night!"

"Onua!" Numair whispered hotly. "She's a _girl_. She can't be more than thirteen, and she's alone."

Over the line, Onua fell silent for a long minute. The static hummed in Numair's ears. Onua was either speechless or thinking about what to do; he couldn't tell. "Onua, you have to come – if I woke her up, she would probably think I was some creepy kidnapper. You've a way with people that I don't have."

Snorting, Onua's voice was as flat and dry as ever. "And I'm a woman. You could _definitely_ be seen as a creeper, Numair – and you know, me being over at your house at six in the morning will not help the rumors that we're sleeping together."

"Just – will you come?"

There was another pause, and this time when Onua spoke, her voice was little different. "I'll be there," she said, softer and kinder.

"Thank you, you have no idea how much I – "

But he was talking to a dial tone. It was Onua's style - straight and to the point, even at six in the morning. _She had better come soon,_ Numair thought. As he waited, tapping his foot and glancing around constantly, a sudden breeze fluttered across him, bringing loose leaves and dirt into his hair and eyes. The girl's nose twitched. Her small hand moved up to rub it. She blinked – once, twice – lifted her head, and turned around, facing him dead-on. Her eyes were a stormy blue, every shade swirling into a sea of emotion. Powerfully alert, she looked as though she'd been awake for hours; her gaze was clear and bright. Something spoke of strength – and fear. But what struck Numair most was the fierce challenge. As though she was daring him to make even the slightest movement. And beneath it all, there was loss, pain, anger. Everything.

"Um – hi," said Numair, slightly stunned. "You – are you – lost?" It sounded pathetic, even to his own ears.

She didn't respond. Her eyes flashed, and with a tiny nudge, the cat beside her woke too. It stretched and wound itself around the girl's legs, and now Numair could see that it was only a kitten, thin and dirty, with glinting hazel eyes. It looked oddly familiar. The silence stretched out for what felt like hours, Numair blinking stupidly under the girl's penetrating eyes. It was as if she were sizing him up.

Suddenly her stomach growled fiercely, breaking the spell. She didn't look away, but Numair's mind kicked back into action. He stared at her, glanced at the apple in his hand, looked back at her, then held it out. "Do you want this?"

The girl narrowed her eyes, and the kitten hissed softly.

"It's not poisoned," said Numair, rolling his eyes. Tossing the apple deftly into the air, he caught it with one hand and took a large bite. "See? Perfectly fine. You can't poison a whole apple."

He threw it to her, and, despite her silence, she snatched it out of the air. Flicking her eyes from him to the fruit, she seemed to be wondering whether or not to trust him. But, with another protest from her stomach, the girl bit into the apple, a drop of juice lingering on her cheek. Numair watched her pause, stare at the fruit, and then take another quick bite.

"What's your name?" asked Numair.

The apple was gone before the girl replied. Tossing the core into nearby bushes – Numair's "garden" – the girl glanced at him again with her fiery eyes. Her voice was soft and clear, a slight accent marking her home – or, at least, where she had been raised - as someplace out of town.

"I'm Daine."

"Daine," repeated Numair, thoughtful. "That's a very pretty name, you know."

She nodded curtly, a tiny acknowledgement. On her feet now, it was clear that she was much shorter than Numair – but then again, most people were. Underneath her, the kitten wound itself between the girl's legs and over her bare feet, no longer hissing. Its relentless eyes still stayed focused solely on Numair. Another cool wind breezed over them, pulling leaves off autumn-tinted trees and making the girl – Daine – shiver.

"Oh – you must be cold. Take this."

Shrugging off his jacket, Numair held it out, too, and waited for Daine to take it, even though she didn't seem like the type who would accept charity. Sighing, Numair was about to give up when Daine walked cautiously over to him and took the coat. "Thanks," she said quietly. With careful eyes, she sat down on edge of the truck. Her scratched feet dangled off the edge. Numair's jacket lay crumpled in her lap, where the kitten took to using it as a sort of pillow.

"Well, if you're going to be that way," muttered Numair, hopping up onto the truck bed beside her. He pulled the jacket from her lap, ignored the kitten's protests at the absence of its cushion, and draped the cloth over Daine's shoulders. "Warm things such as jackets aren't much good unless you put them to use."

It was far too big on her, enveloping her small body like an oversized blanket, but it would be comfortable all the same. She glanced at him, her expression guarded and wary. "Why're you being so nice to me?"

Numair smiled wryly. "Sad world we live in, isn't it? When it's normal to question the kindness of a stranger."

The corner of her mouth twitched, and she looked away. "S'pose so. Guess I don't often trust nobody."

Something in her voice made Numair wonder. But he was saved from coming up with a response by the appearance of a woman, walking around the corner with gloved hands and a fuzzy hat on her head in an attempt to stay warm. Beside Numair, Daine leapt to her feet and stood tensely, while the tiny kitten hissed and growled.

"Who's that?" she asked quickly.

Numair grabbed her wrist so she wouldn't leap onto the pavement and disappear. "My friend," he said hurriedly. "Don't run off. I called her and asked her to come over – I figured you might be more comfortable if there was another woman around."

Daine glared at him accusingly. But she didn't move an inch. Eventually, she sat down again, pulling the restless cat into her lap. "Shh," she scolded. The kitten's fur relaxed along its spine, and it give a last growl before falling watchfully silent. Rubbing the back of his neck, Numair watched Onua approach. She had dark hair and eyes like Numair did, but her skin was a different shade, tan cheeks flushed from the cold. A well-built body was covered by jeans and a green tunic-style jacket. With a strong nose and sharp chin, she was an imposing figure - and it was even worse when she crossed her arms and glared daggers at Numair.

"Hey," Numair said, falsely cheerful. "Um – Onua, this is Daine – Daine, Onua. "

"My pleasure," muttered Onua, her eyes flicking to the girl, and then back at Numair. Daine was remaining very still, her blue-gray eyes fixed on the newcomer. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.

Onua coughed loudly, making Numair jump. He glanced quickly at her, and saw her raise one questioning eyebrow. "Er – Daine, you really shouldn't stay out here," he said hurriedly, stepping back down to the pavement. Turning around, Numair offered his hand to help Daine down.

She ignored it and leapt down on her own. But she stayed close to Numair as she surveyed Onua, nodding coolly. "Hi."

"Good to know you haven't been scared off by him yet," Onua replied, jerking her head at Numair. Holding out her hand, she grinned. "He's quite the character, isn't he?"

"Onua," hissed Numair warningly.

Daine gave a hesitant smile and shook Onua's hand, letting go very quickly. Onua's eyes followed the girl as she drew back, one foot tickled by the kitten's tail. Onua frowned, flicked her gaze briefly to Numair, then motioned towards the enormous, run-down house. "Come on, Daine. We'll figure something out for you. I just _really_ hate being out here in this weather."

Onua started off through the overgrown yard. Weeds tugged at the woman's feet, but she just shook them off, picking the clearest way through. Daine glanced once back at Numair, her face unreadable, then turned and followed Onua to the door. Onua turned the knob – Numair suddenly remembered that he'd forgotten to lock the door when he left the house for work – and the two women disappeared. Watching her go, Numair didn't move for a moment, thinking hard. He'd only just met her, but there was something about Daine that he had never seen in anyone else before. She was young, she was alone, she was in pain – but she was strong. That was undeniable. It was also clear that _something_ had happened to her. He just didn't know _what_. Numair sighed and followed the women inside, making a mental note to call work and say he'd be late or absent for the day.


	2. II

**A/N:** Thank you reviewers, and all readers too! Here's the next set of oneshots, staying in the about same time frame as before, very linear. In upcoming chapters I'll probably do a lot more skipping around in time periods, and it'll feel less like a "story" and more like oneshots just for the joy of reading and writing. But, I hope you like how this is going, and please, continue to read and review!

Thank you and enjoy!

**EDITED**

* * *

"Where are you from?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"I'm just trying to be friendly."

Despite their snippy words, Onua and Daine were trading tiny grins and sitting on Numair's threadbare couch, a drab brown thing with plenty of holes and loose cushion covers. But it was comfortable. It had character, Numair liked to think. Underneath it was a simple rug, and scattered all around were countless books and papers. His house was always a mess, but today it was worse than ever. Old mugs lived on the coffee table, dust resided on the floor, and blankets grew mold on the ground. White walls and high ceilings were the only things that kept the room from feeling like some sort of filthy cave. Numair saw Daine's eyes scanning the place, undoubtedly making false assumptions about his character. He sighed and walked over to them.

"How old are you?" Onua asked as Numair seated himself in the only available space beside Daine.

The stormy blue-grey eyes flashed. "Fifteen," replied Daine firmly.

Onua nodded, but Numair narrowed his eyes. Somehow he could tell that Daine was hiding something. Her face was calm and betrayed nothing, but her eyes could not lie. "No. You're not," said Numair conversationally.

Whipping her head around, Daine glared at him fiercely, a sudden hardness in her tone. "How do you know?"

"I can just tell, that's all. How old are you, really?"

Her gaze burned into him. "I'm thirteen," she said at last. "What does it matter?"

Numair paused; Daine's eyes gleamed.

She was so young.

* * *

She'd been surprised at their kindness. They'd offered to let her clean up, given her a meal, and let her stay in the warmth for a while.

Daine knew it couldn't last.

She sat curled in one of the man's – Numair's – old shirts. The piece of clothing was so large on her that it fit more like a dress. But it was much warmer than the torn, tattered outfit that she'd been in for more than three days straight. Three days – or was it four? She couldn't remember.

She _should_ remember. Clutching her legs tightly to her chest, she rested her forehead tiredly on her knees. The bathroom's door was cold against her back. Water dripped from her clean, wet hair onto the cool white tile. Three days or four? Her throat was still dry from black smoke. She could still see flames whenever she closed her eyes.

But she couldn't remember how long it had been anymore.

* * *

"Don't call Social Services," said Daine fiercely, spitting out the words like they were acid on her tongue.

Onua and Numair blinked; they looked at each other, then back at the girl. Her face was set with determination. Her hair looked almost black when it was wet, which made her skin look even fairer – and also emphasized her eyes all the more. Numair could not stop himself from behind drawn to notice them over and over again.

"Why not?" Onua asked.

"Because. Please, just don't."

The adults traded another glance. It was clear that there was something they did not know, and that they were not likely to find out what it was anytime soon. Daine was guarded, her eyes flat, but she was not wavering in her decision. Crossing his arms, Numair considered her carefully. "You'd run off again if we tried to call help, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I would."

Numair sighed. Her words were as sharp as cat's claws, a sting that Numair was learning to be wary of. "How do you want us to help you, then?"

"I didn't ask for your help," Daine muttered. "I'd be perfectly happy to just keep going to find a job somewhere round here."

"Good luck with that," said Onua dryly. "You have to be fifteen to get a job, and it doesn't happen often around here. When was the last time you were in school?"

"It don't hurt to try," Daine hissed. The kitten's eyes narrowed with the girl's rising irritation.

Too many factors were coming into play on very short notice, Numair thought. Letting out a long breath, the man collapsed into a chair, glaring at Daine and Onua both. So they couldn't call Social Services, and Daine couldn't legally get a job and be on her own. She couldn't be enrolled in school as an orphan without guardians. But though she was young, she didn't strike him as a child, in any case. All the same, Numair couldn't exactly leave her on her own on the streets. Meeting Onua's eyes, Numair knew that she, too, was thinking many of the same things that he was.

Crossing her arms, Onua looked Daine over and frowned. "What kind of things can you do, Daine?"

"I can work," Daine growled defiantly. "I can do anything s'long as I'm getting paid for it."

"That's what worries me," sighed Onua, but Numair wasn't sure if Daine caught the words. Onua glanced over at him. Numair knew what she was thinking. Young, pretty, alone, and on the streets – it was too risky. Looking back at the girl, Onua put her hands firmly on her hips and tilted her head in consideration. "You can work for me, if you want. I'm short on hands at the moment."

"You're offering me a job?"

"Yes."

"What kind of job?"

"Onua works at an animal shelter," interjected Numair, watching the girl carefully for her reaction. He hadn't seen the cat leave her side since they had met. A small intuitive hop lead him to the conclusion that Daine liked being around animals. "Onua runs it, really – does most of the caring and managing. It's always short on hands because they take in any animal in need, so some workers get scared off by the more uncooperative types."

"Uncooperative," muttered Onua dryly. "That's an understatement."

"And you'll pay me?" Daine questioned. "You won't treat me like some kid? You'll actually pay me, as if I was a full worker?"

"No. But I'll give you a place to stay that's not government-owned."

There was a pause as the two women stared unblinkingly at each other, Onua with a perfectly flat gaze, leaving her question open to either response. Daine's eyes were still hard and cautious, but Numair could tell the proposal held something for her. She was considering it.

"You won't turn me in? You won't treat me different and call up Social Services soon as I turn my back?"

"No."

"You can trust Onua," Numair put in. "I've known her for ages. She's not lying to you."

"And how's I know I can trust you?" spat Daine, whipping around to direct her glare at him instead.

"You have to trust someone. What other options do you have?"

For a moment, Daine's eyes narrowed dangerously at Numair, as if daring him to underestimate her. Numair met the burning gaze evenly, and eventually, Daine turned back to Onua. Caught off guard by her sudden reversal, Numair blinked and frowned.

"I'll take it," she said calmly. "I'll work for you, without pay, if you give me a fair decent place to live."

"Then we have deal," smiled Onua.

* * *

Back outside again, Daine titled her face to the sun and soaked up as much of its fresh rays as she could. The day had gotten warmer since the raw morning, but it was still brisk. The sunlight was welcomed by all. Padding quietly by Daine's feet, Cloud suddenly rushed forward to pounce on an unsuspecting blade of grass, and then skittered back to Daine with her prey proudly clutched between her teeth. Daine laughed and knelt on the sidewalk, lifting the kitten up to her own height and speaking firmly.

"You're slowing us up, Cloud," she scolded. "I'll carry you if you're keep on doing that, you know."

Cloud mewed pitifully, making Daine smile as she placed the tiny kitten on her shoulder. Tucking her pink nose under Daine's hair, Cloud seemed resigned to her new seat for the rest of the walk. Onua titled her head as she watched.

"How long have you had her?"

"Who? Cloud?" asked Daine. Onua nodded. "Oh. I suppose – 'bout four months. She's hardly a kitten still."

"She's very small," noted Onua. Daine shrugged – almost dislodging Cloud from her nap.

"All the food I had, I shared. I did the best I could so's we wouldn't ever get too hungry."

"You've had some rough times, haven't you?" Onua said quietly.

The warmth of the day seemed to vanish, leaving Daine cold and empty. She cast her eyes down at the ground, avoiding the other woman's gaze. "Yeah," she said shortly. Cloud woke up and moved, shifting so that her penetrating hazel eyes glared threateningly at Onua. Daine was relieved when Onua took the hint and changed the subject smoothly.

"How much schooling have you had?"

"Up till seventh grade," replied Daine, "but I was taught mostly at home, too. I had to work somedays and couldn't always go to school."

A smile formed on Onua's sharp face, matching the sudden, mischievous light in her eyes. Daine frowned up at her in some trepidation. Onua's grin grew, and she let out a short laugh, clasping her hands together and stretching her arms out lazily in front of her. "I know a certain man who will not stand for a young woman to go through her years without proper teaching," she said, her expression wolfish. "You'll be working for me four days a week, then. That'll be enough for you to earn your keep."

"'Proper teaching?'" repeated Daine. Her heart beat faster. "You've just hired me in a job, school wouldn't work, I don't got birth certificates or social security or even a legal guardian."

"Calm down. I didn't say school. You'll be working four days a week; you couldn't also go to school. You're under the radar - I get that." Onua's voice was sympathetic, but to Daine's relief, there was no pity. Only firm kindness.

"Just four days from seven?" Daine clarified. "What'll I do the other three?"

"Friday will be your day off," stated Onua. Something was still glimmering behind her friendly gaze. "Mondays through Thursdays, you'll work."

"And on Saturdays or Sundays?"

The sun was still inching its careful way up through the sky, cloudless and pure. Onua's voice was as bright and impish as the fickle winter sun.

"You're going to have _lessons_."

* * *

Daine glowered, snatching a book from the coffee table and settling herself as comfortably as she could on Numair's shabby couch. For about one second, she stared at the dark, inky words on the first page, then tossed the text back onto the coffee table, closing her eyes stubbornly and letting her head fall back onto the cushions. "I'm _exhausted_."

"Good to know," said Numair vaguely.

"No, really. Everything all at the shelter's twice as tiring as I was thinking it would be. It's a waste of time, doing this. I should be working more, to pay back Onua for all she's doing."

"From what I've heard, you've worked twice as hard as the other employees," Numair said, frowning. He watched as Daine glared at him, then looked away and rubbed a loose thread in between her small fingers.

"It's not real work if I'm just doing what I like," she muttered. "It don't work that way where I was from."

"You enjoy working with animals, Daine, and you do it well. There's nothing wrong with that."

She yanked the thread from her shirt, tying it absently into a tight knot. She stared at it for a moment, then threw it on the ground and crossed her arms stubbornly. Her eyes were fixed on something distant. Something far away in her mind that Numair couldn't see. Drawing her legs up to her chest, Daine folded her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. Now her gaze was blurred, but not as if by tears. It was like seeing the road through a heat haze on a summer day.

Her eyes narrowed, and she blinked. The flames vanished.

"There's something wrong with that," she murmured, not looking at Numair. "There's always something wrong."

* * *

Pale sunlight filtered through his window at the break of dawn. He'd been distracted the night before; he'd apparently forgotten to shut the blinds before falling exhaustedly into bed. So now Numair was awake at some dreadfully obscene hour, far too early for his liking. But there was nothing he could do about it now. He rose, dressed, and sauntered to his kitchen for breakfast. A bowl was lying neatly in the sink, rinsed and clean, with a spoon placed carefully beside it. One box of cereal had been removed from a cupboard, and Numair could see a tiny spot where milk had spilled on the counter. Someone had been up and eating already. With a small smile, Numair turned towards the large, glass-windowed door that led to his backyard, a place even more mysterious and overgrown than the frontyard maze.

As he had expected, she was there, sitting in the middle of a patch of slightly flattened leaves and vines. Cloud was by her side, curled and calm, her tail swishing silently through the still air. The cat's vivid eyes were as awake and alert as Daine's. The girl was wearing one of his Numair's old shirts. It fell all the way over her knees, and the sleeves hung past her elbows. The cloth was thin, and the air was cold, but she didn't seem to notice. She was completely focused on a small squirrel about a yard away from her, its small paws making almost no noise against the dry leaves. She must have come over from Onua's house early, before her lesson was meant to begin, and eaten her breakfast before finding her way to the yard. Numair supposed Onua gave her a key. Either that, or he'd just forgotten to lock the door again.

Numair walked quietly to the porch and watched her. Leaning soundlessly against the worn railing, he saw her remain still, then move her arm just the slightest bit towards the little rodent. She held a small cracker in her fingers. The moment seemed to stretch out indefinitely; she was moving so carefully. Inch by inch, the squirrel crept closer to her outstretched hand and the treat it held. Daine didn't move, and, surprisingly, neither did the kitten by her side. Everything was still.

At last, the squirrel cautiously sniffed Daine's fingertips and inspected the cracker. Finding the food trustworthy, the squirrel took the cracker, nibbled it, and then scampered off in a rush, holding its prize proudly between its tiny teeth. Daine smiled and rose slowly to her feet, brushing leaves off her legs as she did so. Yawning widely, the kitten stretched and rose as well.

"How long have you been out here?"

Daine whipped around, jumping at the sound of Numair's voice. Holding his hands up quickly, Numair smiled in apology and tried to justify his presence. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you. It was just interesting, that's all. You really _do_ have a gift, you know."

"A gift?" she said dryly. "I've got no gift. I've just a knack with animals, is all."

She rubbed her hands together in the cold and held them to her lips, blowing warm air across her fingertips to try and dispel the morning's numbness. Watching her, Numair frowned. She had more than a knack, he knew. But he didn't say anything yet. He didn't know enough. "How come Onua never told me?" asked Numair, frowning. "She must see it every day."

"I dunno," growled Daine, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. "Maybe _she's_ smart enough to know I've no gift at all, not any kinds."

He might not know enough now. But as Daine strode stubbornly past him, Numair decided that he was going to figure out just what it was about her that intrigued him so.


	3. III

**A/N:** A little bit shorter, and at the end, a little bit different. Skipping-time different. This is where I'm going to start pulling away from a plotty, timeline-consistent story to more of a series of oneshots exploring their relationship. I hope you still enjoy it - you can think of these as lone oneshots and place them at whatever time in their relationship that you want almost. I give a bit of time reference at the end.

Thank you again to everyone reading and/or reviewing this story, keep it coming!

**EDITED**

* * *

Daine wiped her arm across her forehead, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at a very uncooperative dog. He was a russet-colored, fuzzy creature, the kind of puppy that looked so adorable, but in reality, was a disaster to deal with. Daine was determined to get him to cooperate. He was just being stubborn, she could tell. "Come on," she pleaded, grabbing the scruffy animal as it tried to struggle out of the washroom. "It's just _water_, you pesky monster. You've had to deal with much worse. I know you have."

The dog whimpered, tilting his head and staring up at her with wide, pleading brown eyes. He even looked at Cloud once, who hissed and flicked her tail regally as she sat at Daine's side. Daine was sitting too, her legs crossed and her feet bare.

"Yes, Cloud's had to take baths before too, even though she's a cat," answered Daine patiently. "You don't wash yourself, so it's even more important for you to get all clean. Please. You want to get out of here, right? No one wants a puppy who smells bad."

Her honeyed words eventually had the effect she had hoped for. The dog seemed to sigh, curling his furry tail between his legs and taking a few nervous paces forward. Daine smiled kindly at him. "Good boy," she murmured, rubbing his ears. The dog whimpered pitifully, but Daine lifted him and plopped him down in the soapy tub, and he went without resistance and excessive clawing. It was a miracle. Smiling, Daine poured some soap on him and began to scrub, glad for the soft warmth under her calloused hands. It didn't take long before the puppy was a puffball of soap bubbles, and Daine laughed at the sight of him. Only his ears, eyes, and nose protruded from the white fluff. And a tail, wagging weakly in the bubbly water behind him. Daine grabbed a little cup and began to rinse him off, until all the soap was gone, and he was left soaked – but clean – in the tub, staring at her as if she had done him some great personal wrong.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Daine said, lifting him onto a towel. He shivered out of the warm bathwater. "Get used to it, buddy. You'll have do to this a fair few times in your life, you know."

The puppy moaned, but Daine just laughed and quickly dried him off before he could have a change to shake around and fling water everywhere. She kissed his damp ears, wrapped him comfortably in the blanket, and picked him up. "All done," she said, heading to the doors with Cloud at her heels. But when she reached the door, she looked up, and found three people staring at her, one of which was Onua. All of their faces bore the exact same expression: complete awed surprise. The other two people – one boy and one girl – looked around Daine's own age. Perhaps they were employees of Onua's. Their mouths were open slightly, and their eyes were wide. Daine frowned. "What?"

"Toby's never cooperated like that to take a bath before," the girl said. She had dark skin and hair, but was still paler than Onua. She brushed her bangs behind her ear. "Everyone's always had to order him. Using his name, too. You didn't do any of that, and he _listened_."

The boy nodded, and Onua raised an eyebrow, smiling. Daine just stared at them, confused, holding the puppy protectively in her arms.

"Good work, Daine," said Onua, nodding and turning around. Daine was left with the two other employees, who were both watching her slightly nervously. Slipping between them, Daine lowered her head and headed back to Toby's pen, leaving him in the towel as she unlocked the door. The two kids had followed her. The girl stuck out her hand.

"I'm Miri," she said perkily. "This is Evin. We've worked here with Onua for a couple months now."

Daine took her hand. It was rough and weather-beaten, which calmed Daine a little. "I'm Daine. I just started."

"We know," said Evin, sticking out his hand for Daine as well. He was tall and blond, good-looking, with sparkling blue eyes that made Daine think he would be fun to be around. His voice was light and engaging. "Nice to meet you. Next time we're on bath duty and can't get a critter in the tub, we'll come to you."

"I bet you could even get the cats in the tub," said Miri, smiling.

Cloud growled at that, but Daine nudged the kitten with her foot and whispered, "Shh!" and the cat fell quiet, though its hazel eyes were still fixed on Miri. Miri just laughed.

But before any of them could say anything, Onua's sharp voice called out from the other room, making them all jump. "I'm not paying you to stand around and talk, you know. There's plenty of work left for the day!"

All three of them sighed, then traded small grins as they looked around for another job they needed to do. Some of the animals' food bowls were empty, so Daine turned to where the food was stored, and Miri and Evin followed her. "We can always talk later," Evin said, falling into step beside Daine, with Miri at his other side. He tilted his head towards Daine. "Want to join us after work for a while?"

Evin winked, and Miri kicked him. Daine tried to remember if she had extra lessons that day or not – but then decided that it didn't matter. "Sure," she said.

Miri and Evin both smiled broadly until yet another shout from Onua got them moving to another part of the animal shelter. Miri and Evin waved goodbyes to Daine as they turned down a different row of animal pens. Daine waved her hand at them too, and when they were out of sight, she looked down at Cloud. Seeming to shrug her tiny shoulders, the cat prowled ahead with her tail waving regally in the air. Daine smiled. It was always good to have Cloud's approval, after all.

* * *

"You're late," frowned Numair as she walked in, shaking wet rain off of her boots and hair. Cloud liked the water even less, heading straight towards Numair's roaring fire.

"I was with some friends," Daine said, throwing her coat onto the arm of Numair's couch and her boots by the coffee table. She looked up at him for his reaction as she sat down.

His eyes were warm, and he sat beside her, smiling. "Who were you with?"

"Miri and Evin. I met them at work."

"Onua's talked about them before. They're good kids, she said."

"Why does everyone call us kids?" asked Daine, irritated. "We're _not_. We're working, we're earning money for ourselves, and we - "

"I know," said Numair hurriedly, placing a hand on her arm. "I know, Daine. It's the rest of the world that doesn't seem to."

Daine sighed. She wished it didn't have to be that way, sometimes.

* * *

Daine propped her legs up on Numair's coffee table. Cloud settled comfortably on her toes, keeping them nice and warm. Even now, Daine hated to wear shoes, and every time she came inside, she'd throw them off at once and insist on having all her lessons barefooted, ignoring cold or rough ground. She'd done it so much that Numair had given up trying to convince her out of it.

"Hungry?"

Looking up, Daine saw Numair standing in his messy kitchen, holding a box of pasta. He grinned. "My cooking skills are limited, but I can feed someone in need."

"Thanks," Daine said. "Pasta's fine. Anything's good but meat."

"Anything's good _except_ meat," corrected Numair, pouring the pasta into hot water. He took a wooden spoon and stirred, glancing over his shoulder. "'But' is a contraction; it's used differently."

"Oh, whatever," grumbled Daine. But she smiled, and Cloud gave a soft purr.

In a few minutes, the pasta was ready, and Numair poured it into two bowls, came over to the couch, and delivered a dish to Daine. "Top quality dining, this is," he said as he propped his feet up on the coffee table beside hers. Scooting close, his arm brushed against hers. He looked over at her bare feet.

"You know," he said at last, in a very thoughtful tone, "sometimes, Daine, I think you might have the right idea."

"What?"

Numair kicked off his shoes and then crossed his legs like Daine's, bright-colored socks glaring against his dark jeans. Daine stared at them, then laughed.

"Wow, Numair. I really like your socks."

"My socks?"

Daine pointed, suppressing a renewed fit of giggles. His socks were pink, purple, and green, striped, with dots at the toes and heel. Every color was vivid and distinct. They looked like something that would be part of a clown's costume or an elementary student's drawer. It was so _Numair_, to wear something like that. Daine couldn't help but laugh, bumping her head against his shoulder.

"You're great, Numair," she said amusedly, smiling. "You really are."

"I don't know what you have against my socks," Numair replied, a carefully innocent expression on his face. "But, yes, I do agree that I am quite remarkable. You made an astute observation."

Daine shook her head and scooted a little closer to him. It was a bit cold in his house today; she appreciated their proximity and the warmth. Numair wiggled his colorfully clad toes, his mischievous gaze fixed on Daine's face. Once again, Daine dissolved into laughter, her pasta forgotten as she looked back up at his teasing, friendly face.

* * *

Fumbling around in her pocket, Daine cursed loudly, making Numair frown.

"When did you start talking like that?"

"When I started spending time with you," she retorted. "Do you have a quarter?"

Numair leaned over, reached his arm behind her head, and produced a quarter from behind her ear. "No." He grinned, flipping the coin deftly through the air. "But you do."

Gaping, Daine snatched the coin from air and stared at it, then back at Numair, amazed. "How'd you do that?" she demanded, one hand going up to her ear.

"A true magician never reveals his secrets," Numair said, winking. Daine stuck her tongue out at him, then slid the quarter into the vending machine and pushed the button for a cherry soda. Clanging and rolling, the can appeared in the opening at the bottom. Daine took it and popped it open at once. It fizzed cheerily, some of it spilling onto her fingers, and she took a sip, smiling.

"You should try this stuff, Numair."

"Do you even know what this is?" Ignoring Daine's protests, Numair grabbed the can out of her hands and turned it around to the label. "It's corn syrup and bubbles and artificial color. It's not even real sugar that makes it so disgustingly sweet, you know."

"So? It's good," insisted Daine. "Just taste it?"

Numair sighed, but an involuntary smile worked its way onto his face, and he didn't refuse. He took a sip and passed the can back to her.

"Well?" Daine asked, drinking more. Her lips were bright red with the soda's touch, contrasting against her soft face and vivid eyes.

"I think you could sell it as top-rate makeup," said Numair dryly. Daine laughed, the sound light and clear over the noise of the night around them.

With a shake of her head, Daine grinned again, her eyes focused and bright. She grabbed his wrist and looked directly at him. "Thank you, Numair."

"For what?"

"For the quarter," she said calmly, her eyes not leaving his. "What else?"

She let go of his wrist, and Numair, not altogether sure what had just happened, followed her as she set off down the sidewalk.

* * *

"Daine?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wish for something else?"

"What?"

Daine looked up from her work, seeing Numair leaning against his kitchen counter with his arms crossed. Cloud, much bigger now, stood, brushed against Daine's curled legs, and settled below her stomach. Putting down her pencil – Daine was tired of math problems anyway – she picked up the cat so that she could sit up on her knees and see Numair better. She turned and crossed her arms over the back of the couch, tilting her head at him. "What do you mean?" she repeated.

"I mean…" Numair ran a hand through his hair and stood up straight, apparently struggling for words, which didn't happen to him often. "You work, you come here for lessons, you hang out with your friends. Don't you ever want to try regular schools, _not_ working, or graduating from high school?"

Something like fear started to snake icily into Daine's heart. She frowned "Do you – do you want me to go to school? Regular classes, I mean?"

"No," said Numair hurriedly, coming over to the couch. He bent and crossed his arms on the couch's back like hers were, turning his head so they were facing each other. "I love our lessons here. It's so much better than enormous university classes. I only wondered what you wanted. I'd thought you would have gotten bored of this much faster."

"You do the same thing every day," Daine pointed out. "You teach, you teach me, you do whatever else it is that you do. How is that any different?"

"Well - "

Numair stopped, puzzled, and both of them grinned. Daine nudged him pointedly. "See. Doing the same thing isn't always bad."

"Fine, fine, you win - I was just making sure," conceded Numair, straightening. Daine followed him with her eyes as he stood. The fear in her heart was a little less now, but another, different fear had quickly taken its place, and she had to do something about it. It was too familiar.

"Numair?" Daine asked quickly, before she could rethink her decision. Numair turned.

"Yes?"

"Today's my birthday."

For a moment, Numair's face didn't change – and then a broad smile stretched across it, his dark eyes lighting up. "How come you never told me when your birthday was? I've got to get you a gift. What do you want?"

"Nothing," laughed Daine, amused at his boyish expression of delight. "I just thought you'd want to know. I don't want anything, though."

"How come you never told me before? asked Numair again, coming over to the couch. He was trying to sound stern, she could tell, but his suppressed smile somewhat ruined the effect.

Shrugging, Daine tried to sound nonchalant, and hoped Numair wouldn't notice her sudden nervousness, her eyes flicking back and forth from the ground to his face. "I guess – I was worried. I thought you and Onua wouldn't want me around when I was fifteen and could work on my own. I was afraid Onua might kick me out of her house."

"Is that why you would never tell anyone?" said Numair, shaking his head and laughing too. It was a deep, warm sound that made Daine's anxiety vanish. He took her shoulders and pulled her to her feet, meeting her eyes. "Daine, Onua would never get rid of you. You're the best worker she has."

"And you?"

Numair pushed a stray strand of hair gently behind her ear. "These lessons are my favorite parts of the week. Don't worry, Daine. I'd never want to kick you out."

"Promise?"

"I promise," said Numair, grinning. He pulled her into a brief hug, his arms tight around her shoulders for a few seconds. "Happy birthday, Daine."

"Thanks, Numair," she replied, hugging him back. He smiled at her as they pulled apart. Daine reluctantly lifted her math work back into her lap, while Cloud resettled around her knees. Numair crossed his arms, his eyes flashing mischievously.

"What?" Daine said cautiously.

"I'm still going to get you a present, you know."

Daine groaned.


	4. IV

**A/N:** Sorry for the long break, was on a trip. Happy Holidays all! Again, more skipping-time-style oneshots. I hope you still enjoy. Read and review! Thank you all!

**EDITED**

* * *

Stretching her arms above her head, Daine pointed. "What's that one?"

"Part of Draco, the dragon. See those four to the left that make up the head? And then the body and tail? The bright stars, there. There's also - "

"I see it," she said hastily, smiling. Numair laughed.

"Sorry. I forget, sometimes, that you're a good deal smarter than most of the people I teach. Either that, or I'm just not used to teaching constellations when I'm actually looking at them at the same time."

"Sure," Daine said, shaking her head. "Sure, whatever you say."

They lay in silence for another moment, a warm breeze making Daine's hair blow across her face and tickle her nose. It was so dark that the only things she could see were the stars and the moon. All the trees and houses were just vague shadows. Occasionally, she would hear a car rush by on the distant streets, but for the most part, it was silent. Another smiled stretched across her face. She shifted onto her side, turning her head and whispering into Numair's ear. It felt wrong, somehow, to talk too loudly in the silence. She pointed up to her left. "Is that a constellation? Those stars, over there?"

"It is. That's Aquila, the eagle." Numair, too, turned his head towards her, their faces inches apart in the darkness. "She was a pet-servant of Zeus. She flew down to Earth and, very gently, brought him a child, the son of the king of Troy – Ganymede. Ganymede was to be Zeus's cup-bearer. Pleased beyond words, Zeus swore that he would honor his Aquila even after her death. He kept his word – Aquila lives on in the sky."

"That one's pretty," commented Daine. She flipped onto her back again, eyes wide. "But, Ganymede – what happened to him?"

Numair pointed into the sky, creating a shape with his finger. "See there? Ganymede's there. He's known as Aquarius. But that's him – living on in the stars as well."

"I like stories," Daine sighed, closing her eyes. "Tell me another?"

"Do you know the tale of Andromeda?"

"No."

"Look directly above you."

Daine blinked open her eyes and searched for a shape among the glitters. "There?" she asked, a bright glimmer twinkling at her fingertip.

"No, not that one. This is the center, and then her arms and legs go this way." Numair lifted his hand to wrap it around hers. His palm was rough and warm. Slowly, he moved her hand so that she was pointing at the right stars. "There - and there. Do you see it?"

"Yeah," Daine murmured.

"Andromeda was a maiden. A princess. Her mother Cassiopeia said she was beautiful, more beautiful than even the water nymphs. There were many people who loved her for her beauty – and so there were also many people who burned with jealousy. For example, the water nymphs." Numair moved his hands through the air as he spoke, he fingers and voice painting the myth into reality in the darkness. Daine's eyes closed again as the words washed over her, his voice warm and soft. "Those water nymphs didn't appreciate Cassiopeia's insolence in claiming that her daughter more beautiful than they. They arranged for Andromeda to be sacrificed. So the maiden was chained to a cold, lonely rock by the sea, stripped of her clothing, and left as a gift for the vicious sea-monsters who ruled the wide oceans."

"What happened to her?" Turning on to her side again, Daine snuggled in closer to Numair's form. One of his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"At the very last moment, she was rescued. There was a monster upon her, and she was defenseless; its deadly sharp teeth were only inches away. But Perseus the hero arrived, destroyed the beast after a great battle, and set her free. They were soon married, too – even though Perseus was meant to be married to another. "

"Sounds like the same old stories we have today," yawned Daine, rubbing her tired eyes.

"In many ways, it is indeed," said Numair, a small smile stretching slowly across his face.

"You're good at telling stories, you know."

"Really? You think so?" Numair turned his head slightly so he could see her. She nodded sleepily.

"Mhm."

"I appreciate it, then. Thank you."

"What's your favorite constellation?"

"My favorite?"

"Yeah."

"They're all too beautiful," Numair said, turning his face back to the sky. The moon's glow cast a shine over his face and sparkled in his eyes. "My favorite, though. I've always liked Sagittarius, the archer. There, by the horizon."

"Mhmm," murmured Daine again. His words were calming.

"Sagittarius was a centaur, by the name of Chiron. Very talented with the bow and arrow – can you see it there? He was the teacher of all the young heroes. Perhaps that is why I like him. But, Chiron was shot and killed by none other than Hercules himself – Hercules was too far away to see that he had killed a friend. So, in his memory, Hercules cast Chiron into the stars so that he would never be forgotten."

He paused for a minute, sensing a stillness that hadn't been there before. Daine didn't respond, and, curious, Numair turned back to her. "Daine?"

She was asleep. Her mouth was open slightly and her small hands were curled into loose fists, resting next to his chest. Numair smiled, feeling her slow breaths tickle across his skin. He stood, very slowly, and lifted her up with him, holding her in his arms like she was made of porcelain. He carried her inside and laid her down on his couch. It was surely far too late to wake her to send her back to Onua's. As Daine left his arms, she shifted and shivered, a tiny crease appearing on her forehead. Numair ran a hand over her wild hair. Despite everything, she still had that strange childish innocence, though she was far from a child. She was sixteen. She hadn't been a child for years.

Finding a blanket and extra pillow in the corner of a mostly unused closet, he laid it over her small form and slipped the softer pillow under her head. She smiled in her sleep. On impulse, Numair leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. "Sleep well, Daine," he murmured, his lips curling into a tiny smile.

He wished he could've stayed near the couch with her, but he knew that was impractical. Back in his room, he fell onto his bed and, despite the late hour, didn't drift off into sleep for a long while.

* * *

The next morning, Numair woke to someone yanking the covers off of him and growling like an angry animal. Scrambling in the cold, he blinked open his eyes to find a seething Onua above him, glowering furiously, looking just like a wild horse about to begin a stampede.

"What the hell, Onua?" spluttered Numair, snatching a blanket. "I'm not _wearing _anything!"

"You're wearing boxers," she said irritably. "Why is Daine on your couch?"

"Talk a little quieter, will you?" groaned Numair. "Is she still asleep?"

"Yeah, she is," muttered Onua, her voice marginally quieter now, but still positively laced with frustration. "Why the hell wasn't she at my place last night like she was supposed to be?"

"She was here at one last night and - "

"Why?!"

"Let me finish! We were having a lesson. Constellations. She fell asleep and I figured it'd be best not to wake her up. You could've called me if you were worried."

"I didn't know she was gone until this morning!"

"Well, where were you?"

"Beside the point," grumbled Onua, crossing her arms. "You should've let me know. She can't spend the night over here, Numair."

"Why not?" Annoyed, Numair stood, overshadowing Onua with his height. She didn't back down, jabbing a finger at his bare chest.

"Because, Numair! You're a single man and she's a girl. She's sixteen, and - "

"You're just making up excuses," said Numair, his voice cold. "You know I wouldn't do that."

"Maybe I am, Numair, but other people don't know you like I do," she hissed. "You've just got to be careful, all right?"

Numair threw his arms up in surrender, glowering. "You win, okay? Will you please _be quiet_?"

"Fine," spat Onua. They both glared at each other for a minute, unmoving, refusing to back down. Onua pursed her lips and frowned, her dark eyes still burning, though she seemed a little bit calmer than before. She raised an eyebrow amusedly. "Do you want some clothes?"

Before Numair could respond, a small, relaxed voice came from his doorway. Looking up, Numair saw Daine leaning against the doorframe and trying very hard not to laugh. Her hair was still mussed with sleep and her stance was weary, but she was very much awake, her eyes twinkling. "Morning, Numair, Onua," she said, grinning.

Numair groaned and covered his face with his hands. He heard Daine's burst of laughter, and he could imagine the face that went with it. It wasn't really the ideal start to his day.

* * *

"I _hate_ these things."

"You hate what?"

"Formal parties," muttered Numair, placing his feet stubbornly on his coffee table. He made no attempt to move towards the jacket and tie on the couch, and he was still wearing his usual weekend clothes of jeans and a t-shirt. Daine stood and looked him over critically, blocking his view of the muted TV above the fireplace. He made a huffy sound of indignation, throwing his arms in the air, but Daine refused to budge.

"You've got to start getting ready," she commanded sternly. "You're going to be late, you know."

"You're not exactly ready yourself," retorted Numair, pointing to her attire, which was no less casual than his.

Daine felt a slight blush creep across her cheeks. "_I_ shouldn't have to go to this party. I won't know anyone."

"You'll know me."

"It's a university party, Numair - "

"A party for teachers and students. You're my student. You are coming."

Daine groaned, putting her face in her hands. She couldn't imagine a worse torture than standing awkwardly in fancy clothes and smiling at a bunch of people who she didn't know and who would instantly question her right to be there. "I don't have anything to wear," she lied hopefully.

"Nice try," said Numair.. "I know you went shopping with Miri this weekend."

"Well, it's at Onua's."

"Again, nice try. I heard you hide it somewhere when I was in my room."

"I didn't _hide_ it," Daine muttered. "I just put in the other bathroom. Out of sight."

"Of course."

"We're getting off-subject," said Daine irritably. "Numair, you've still got to get ready. Go, before I have to make you."

Numair sat resolutely in his chair for another minute, his eyes locked with hers in a dramatic staring contest. It didn't end until Daine lost her patience, grabbed Numair's arm, yanked him out of the chair, shoved his shirt and tie into his hands, and pushed him into his room to change. He stumbled as Daine moved forward to close the door, ignoring his steady stream of protests.

"You're a demanding one, my dear," came a dry voice from behind the closed door.

Daine didn't bother to reply. She could hear the sounds of rustling clothes, proof that Numair was – most likely – attempting to look slightly professional. Sitting on the edge of the couch, she tapped her foot as she waited for him to come out again, hoping that somehow he'd forget about asking her to tag along. It didn't seem likely. Daine sighed.

Just then, Numair's door squeaked open, and he came out, fully dressed in slacks, a faintly pinstriped white button-down, a dark suit jacket, a patterned red tie, and even formal black dress shoes. He fidgeted awkwardly with the tie – it was a little twisted at the top – and he sighed, looking extremely uncomfortable. But somehow, he still looked _good_. His graceful body was no less noticeable in the formal wear, and his face was no less attractive than it was when he smiled and his eyes sparkled. His had shaved and pulled his long hair into a neat ponytail. Impressed, Daine jumped up and came over to help him, easily shaking his tie into place and pressing it neat and flat. Numair frowned.

"How is it that you know how to do that better than I do?"

"I've no idea," Daine said honestly. She stepped back and looked up at him, smiling. "Wow, Numair. You look nice."

"Right," said Numair, fidgeting some more.

"No, really," Daine assured him. She took her seat on the couch again. "Anyone who doesn't know you might think you look that smart all the time."

"Thanks for the compliment." Numair's eyes scanned over her, stretched casually over the cushions. "Don't think you are going to get out of this so easily, Daine."

"But, Numair - "

"If I have to get all dressed up, so do you."

"But you're the only one that actually _has_ to go to the stupid party."

Numair looked at her imploringly, pressing his hands together and raising his eyebrows. "Please? _I'll_ enjoy it more if you're there. It'll be hell around all the old crazies otherwise."

Daine sighed. Looking at his hopeful, encouraging face, she knew she couldn't refuse. His pleading won her over. "Oh, all right," she said huffily, making her way to the other bathroom where she'd left her dress. Behind her, Numair cheered, making her grin a little.

Her dress was a mid-length, delicate thing that Miri had picked out. She'd said it would look absolutely _perfect_ on Daine. It was light blue, almost the same shade as Daine's eyes, and faded into a slightly darker shade at the bottom. The top paled to almost-white, a hint of color just barely discernable. Slipping into the silky fabric, Daine tied the halter-top tightly under her wild hair – which she wasn't even going to attempt to tame before the party – and then tried to straighten out any wrinkles or funny spots on her figure. Looking in the mirror, Daine figured that at least the dress fit her well. It could have been worse. Over the past few years, her body had matured and grown far more than she'd expected. She was still slender – years of malnourishment left a permanent mark – but Daine was no longer living in that bony child's body. Glancing at her chest, Daine thought bemusedly that Miri must have picked out the dress under the impression that Daine was going to try to seduce someone by the time the night was over. It was far more low-cut than she was used to, and she certainly filled it out. The cerulean fabric was soft and smooth, with a layer of sheer on the outside, and a narrow tie around the middle to pull it tight under her chest. Daine tied a bow in the back, checking to make sure the tails weren't too long or too uneven. Lastly, she looked inside the small bag that had been hanging on the dress's coathanger. Something sparkled in the fluorescent light. Pulling it out, Daine saw that it was a glittering silver necklace, all of it flawless, with a clear crystal charm shaped like an open heart. Daine had never seen it before – but it was beautiful. Reaching back into the bag, Daine found a note scrawled in Miri's hasty hand.

_Think of this as three birthdays' and two Christmases worth of presents that I never got you. Wear it to impress someone special, all right? Miri._

Daine laughed. It was so like Miri, to do something like that. Just as she was trying to clasp it around her neck, a knock sounded on the door, and Numair's voice called out to her.

"What takes you so long?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Daine said hurriedly. Cursing, she set down the necklace temporarily and slid on her shoes – sparkly white sandals with a tiny heel that Miri had also recommended. Daine extracted her limited supply of makeup from an extra bag she'd brought when she dropped off the dress and did what she could to her flushed face. She was already wearing small, simple crystal earrings – she hated wearing bracelets and rings, so none of that – and she _still_ couldn't get the necklace to clasp right.

"Think you could help me with this?" Daine asked, opening the door with one hand while still holding the stubborn necklace behind her head with the other.

Numair turned around to face her, still looking very smart in the formal wear – and then stopped short. He stared at her for a minute, an almost stunned look on his face. His eyes were wide as he gazed at her. Blushing a little, Daine smiled hesitantly. "Can you help me?"

Numair blinked and seemed to snap out of his trance. "Sure," he said quickly, coming over to her. "Of course."

Turning around, Daine lifted her hair off of her neck so he could reach the clasp. When his hands touched hers, she let go of the chain to let him work. Numair brushed her hair off to the side, and then started to fiddle with the clasp, his warm fingertips skimming lightly across the skin at her neck. A shiver ran down Daine's spine.

"Are you cold?"

"No, no, I'm fine," said Daine hurriedly. In moments, Numair had the clasp done, and he let her hair fall back into place again. Daine turned around, smiling at him in thanks. He still looked mildly bewildered.

"You look amazing, Daine."

"So do you," replied Daine, conscious again of a flush on her cheeks. She _hated_ dressing up.

Numair just smiled sympathetically and offered her his arm. Daine sighed, despite the smirk that twitched at her lips. She took Numair's arm and let him lead her to the door. He motioned her regally through it with a little bow as if she were some sort of royalty. Daine laughed, making Numair's grin widen as they hurried towards his beaten-up car.


	5. V

**A/N: **Thank you so much all readers and reviewers, please, keep it up! Reviews are so appreciated. Here's a very long chapter composed of only two parts, including the moment we've all been waiting for. I hope it's right, enjoy!

**EDITED**

* * *

The room was stuffy and hot, or at least, it seemed that way to Daine, despite the enormous windows and the towering, wide marble archways and pillars. The university's main room was so massive that Daine felt as small as a mouse. Especially among so many people she didn't know. Numair didn't seem comfortable either, even though he should have known all the faces and the big room. Rubbing the back of his neck, Numair sighed, making Daine look up at him questioningly.

"What?"

"I'm trying to decide whether or not it is my duty to initiate a tiresome and unnecessary conversation with the professors over there, or if I have my leave to put a great deal of effort into avoiding them at all costs."

Daine blinked. "If I were you, I'd go with the second one."

"I wish I had your manner of thinking," Numair said. Resigned, he started to head off, looking back over his shoulder as he went. "I hate to leave you to this torture, as well. Just make small talk and you'll be fine. Will you drag me away if it looks like I'm about to die from the suffering?"

"Of course!"

When he was gone – Daine feeling very, very sorry for him, though it _was_ amusing – she looked around and wondered what on earth she was supposed to do now. _Small talk,_ she thought dryly. A group of students were standing on the far side of the shining room in front of a table covered with all sorts of tiny treats. Daine glanced back at Numair. He was surrounded by a group of teachers all considerably older than he was, but he grinned tiredly when he caught Daine's eye.

Throughout the rest of the hall, the students were laughing and chatting with each other, some with bubbling glasses of champagne held lightly in their grip. One of them, a young man with big ears and a boyish smile, titled his head and looked at Daine with a half-confused, half-curious type of expression. "Do you go here?" he said, his voice a bit reedy, but kind. "I don't think I've ever seen you before. Thought this was a student party."

"I'm Daine. I'm a student of – um – Professor Salmalin's."

Every single one of the students looked confused at that, for some reason. But either they'd had too many glasses of champagne, or they just didn't care, because the boy who's asked her just and shrugged, holding out a hand.

"Nice to meet you then, Daine," he said. "I'm Perin – this is Tana, Remy, Michael, John – "

For what felt like hours, Daine was stuck with them, listening to their stories and tales and wondering if it was worth it to try and remember names. Perin offered her champagne, but looking at the people who didn't have a glass in their hands, Daine figured that there was a bit of an honor system in place concerning who was legal to drink and who was not. Daine shook her head, and Perin shrugged, motioning at the bar of snacks instead. Again, Daine refused, smiling and trying not to seem too horribly rude.

"It's all right," one of the girls said. She was blonde and tall – _Tana,_ Daine remembered. "You can ignore Perin if you want. He's too talkative for his own good."

"Oh, I don't mind," said Daine, smiling. "It'd only be bad if he wasn't smart enough to pull it off."

Everyone roared with laughter. Daine grinned, feeling much more at ease now, though she still wished that Numair hadn't dragged her there in the first place. Music began to play from somewhere behind her. Daine realized that the middle of the floor was clearing for people who wanted to dance. _Dancing. Anything but dancing,_ Daine thought miserably with an involuntary wince. Daine tried to sidle away from the part of the room that was obviously supposed to be the dance floor – but Perin caught her lightly by the arm with a slightly lopsided, shy grin. It was kind of cute, but Daine was too filled with apprehension to really appreciate it.

"Might I have a dance?" he said cordially.

Daine smiled weakly. "Oh – of course. Yeah."

His grin got even wider. He seemed genuinely happy, and Daine felt all the more guilty that _she_ was not looking forward to this. Perin's hands fell onto her waist and she set hers lightly on his shoulders; they swayed slowly in time with the music. Perin smiled.

"Do you come to things like this a lot?"

"Hardly ever," muttered Daine, tense. "I don't like them, really."

"Neither do I."

He spun her around like he thought he was a pro. He wasn't _bad_, exactly - but as they danced, their feet would bump oddly and they'd flash awkward grins. Daine sighed and took it as it came, letting her mind wander across the room. When Perin spun her again, she caught sight of Numair getting asked to dance by one of the older students. She was tall and pretty – was it Tana again? – and Numair nodded and they began to dance, too. Only a few couples were on the floor. Daine watched Numair out of the corner of her eye. He was courteous and gracious to his partner, but she could tell that it wasn't exactly his favorite thing to do. She couldn't blame him for that. Looking up at Perin, Daine couldn't help but feel relieved as the song ended and they split apart. Perin rubbed the back of his neck as the next song started up, a slower, sweeter melody.

"Um – do you - ?"

"Sorry," came a deep voice from behind Daine. "Mind if I have the next dance?"

It was Numair. Daine smiled in relief and reached up to her teacher's shoulders at once, feeling only the slightest twinge of guilt at completely blowing Perin off. But even that was erased as Numair's hands settled around her waist. She grinned up at him. Numair spun her around, away from Perin, and Daine took the opportunity to genuinely laugh for the first time that night. "Thanks, Numair. You saved me there. I owe you."

"This can be your repayment," muttered Numair, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "I would've had to dance with what's-her-face again if I hadn't told her I'd promised a dance to you."

"Her name's Tana, but I can understand where you're coming from. A bit."

"Thanks ever so much for the words of encouragement."

"No problem."

Both of them smiled, perfectly at ease. Numair's hands guided her gently along with the song; their feet never bumped once. Even through her sparkling dress she could feel the warmth of his palms, and under her arms she could feel the strong muscles of his back and shoulders. A sudden flush crept into her cheeks.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just think if I'd known there was dancing, I would've tried harder not to come."

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't tell you, then," said Numair, his eyes alight. "If you weren't here, this would be even more of a hell than it already is."

"Keep your voice down," whispered Daine, leaning closer to him. She couldn't help a sly smile. "You don't want to offend our gracious hosts."

"Of course not," agreed Numair, titling his head closer to hers as well. Their faces were inches apart, their words traded in conspiratorial tones. For a second, Daine thought she saw something different – something unusual – flash though his dark eyes. But she blinked, and it was gone. The song ended at the same moment, too, and Daine came to realize that at some point in their dancing, they had gotten very close. She sighed and drew away slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair off of her face. Her heart was beating unusually fast.

"I say we've made a long enough appearance," said Numair, glancing distastefully at both the clock and the eager young males in the crowd who were eyeing Daine hopefully. "Shall we make an escape?"

"If you're sure. Whose idea was it, this party? Formal and dancing, nothing productive, for no occasion?"

"I don't know. I don't really want to, either. I might say something rude to the person, who is, in all likelihood, my boss."

Daine laughed, toyed with the necklace at her neck, and glanced around them. Other couples – all pairs of students – were filling the dance floor, and the other professors were in a casual group somewhere in the back. If they were going to leave, now would be as good a time as any. It wasn't that the night had gone by fast, by any means, but they _had_ been there for plenty long a time. "Let's go then," Daine said. She pulled on Numair's arm and they headed to the giant, gilded wooden doors.

Whether or not Numair noticed the suspicious glances some of the dancers threw at them, Daine couldn't tell. Leaving together was rather conspicuous. Daine ignored them. She guessed Numair was doing the same, but still, the man didn't relax until they were inside his old truck, where he exhaled loudly and smiled at her.

"I am so glad that's over," he said, squinting out at the dark road. Daine laughed.

"God, me too."

But part of her almost wished she were back there, with Numair's arms around her and hers draped over his shoulders. It had been too perfect, too comfortable, too _right_. Daine shifted in her seat, wrapping her arms around her sides to keep herself warm; the night had gotten cool and her dress was thin. Something had changed, and Daine wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

* * *

Gentle waves tapped at the shoreline. Farther in the distance, the ocean crashed with remote echoes, beautiful and powerful. Sun glittered like tiny diamonds strewn over the water. It was just beginning to fade, afternoon smoothly melding into evening. As the day drew to a close, Numair watched his student dance through the shallow waves, bending to lift a shell that had caught her eye, or laughing when cold water splashed above her ankles. She was wearing cut-off jeans that she'd rolled up to her knees and a loose white shirt that billowed in the wind; it might have been one of Numair's old t-shirts. Numair himself was standing a little ways away from the water. He himself was wearing long jeans and what used to be a dress shirt, a navy blue button-down that Daine hadn't given him time to change out of before dragging him to the beach. He'd undone the buttons around the collar and arms, so it was fairly comfortable. Numair stood on the drier part of the beach, loose sand hot under his feet.

Daine gave a little exclamation, lifting something up to the fading sunlight. Whatever she was holding sparkled like glass, and she turned to him, waving it through the air.

"Numair! Come here, look at this!"

Just as she was speaking, a wave crashed down behind her, and she stumbled forward a little before catching herself. Grinning, she straightened up again and splashed out of the water. When she reached him, she held up her find for Numair to see. It was a very small, very shiny shell. It had colored striped spiraling around a white backdrop until it reached a point, sharp and unbroken. The colors were brown, red, and pink, and odd mixtures of all three until all that was distinguishable was the occasional spot of pure white within a beautiful blend of many shades.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" Daine asked, smiling up at him. "I haven't seen one like this before. I'm keeping it."

"Indeed it is," replied Numair. He looked at her, then back at the shell in her hand.

Daine slipped her treasure into her pocket and titled her head, a smile twitching at the corners of her lips. Her narrowed, mischievous eyes sparkled in the sun. A few stray drops of water clung to her thick hair and eyelashes. "Come on, get your feet wet, Numair. You're missing out, standing up here all dry."

She grabbed him by the elbow, and despite Numair's protests, she pulled him to the line of dark, damp sand where a wave had just slid up and then fallen away. She nudged him with her elbow. "Roll your jeans up if you don't want them to get wet. If you don't want them to get _too_ wet, I mean."

"You are insufferable, you know that?" sighed Numair, but he flashed a smile at her as he bent to do as he was told. Her grin broadened.

"It's fun, trust me," she said earnestly.

"I believe you."

"You're being sarcastic, aren't you?"

"I'm not!"

She put her hands on her hips, her expression stern. "Yes, you are."

"Really," said Numair seriously, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm delighted to be buffeted over and over again by salt water. "

"Oh, be quiet," Daine said, but she couldn't hide her smirk, which made Numair grin, too. "Come on, trust me." She held out her hand, raised her eyebrows - and Numair was powerless to resist. He let his student pull him into the waves, laughing as the salt water broke over her knees. The wave rushed over Numair's skin too, cold and biting, but Daine's hand was warm against his. She rose onto her toes and spun, tossing tiny droplets of water through the air, faster and faster until she stumbled and fell with a splash.

"What the hell are you doing, Daine?" laughed Numair, watching her tumble and holding his arms out in the universal sign of bewilderment.

"Enjoying myself," Daine retorted, sticking her tongue out from her seat on the ground. "Come on, Numair!"

"You're _soaked_, my dear."

Daine paused, blinking a few times and frowning. Then she cupped both hands and tossed a handful of water at Numair, laughing loudly as he spluttered and cursed. "Now you're wet too," she said cheerfully.

"Evil woman," Numair muttered, trying to shake the worst of the water away. He supposed it was a futile effort, though – he was standing in the ocean, after all. Daine rose to her feet, still grinning.

"I am not evil," she insisted, poking him in the chest. She was only inches away from him.

"Maybe not evil, then," Numair teased. "Just crazy."

Another wave rippled over their feet, pushing Daine forward a little bit so that her nose bumped against Numair's chest. Drops of water slid from her hair onto his clothes and skin, or blew away with the ever-present beach breezes. Feeling his heart begin to race – and aware that Daine had to be able to hear it – Numair grabbed Daine's elbows and tried to steady her. A small smile twitched at the corner of her lips. Numair heard her whisper, barely audible over the roaring of the water and the wind. Her eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Maybe I am crazy," she said.

And then she slid her arms around his shoulders, placed one hand firmly on the nape of his neck, and pulled his lips down to hers without even a second's hesitation. Fire raced across Numair's skin from where they touched. From Daine's hands behind his head, to his own hands holding her elbows then sliding down to her wrists and fingers; from their bodies pressed so close that not even air could pass through, to their lips tangling as if they only had one moment to experience this. Without consciously deciding to, Numair found himself kissing her back. His mind was blank except for thoughts of her. He wrapped his arms around her back and held her tightly, as if they would never be apart. The pounding in his ears drowned out any return of thought or reason as their lips melded together, soft and gentle at first, then fast and hard. Numair's lungs began to protest; he pulled away and tried to regain control of himself. Cold air stung his face and eyes. Daine was breathing hard, her eyes alight, cheeks flushed. One of her hands slid down to rest above his heart. Her palm was warm against his damp shirt, and a look of amazement spread across her face.

"You kissed me back," she whispered, sounding breathless. She blinked and stared at him, while Numair stared back, captivated by the storm in her eyes.

Numair's attempt to control himself failed miserably. Only his heart was working now. He lifted Daine's chin with one hand and traced up and down her back with the other, feeling her shiver under his touch. Her eyes flicked hesitantly away from him, but then flew back to his face, and then away again. Daine stared down at her hand over Numair's heart, pale fingers spread wide over the dark fabric. Numair touched her face gently until she looked back up at him and didn't look away. Her eyes were full of something unreadable, like hope and fear and passion all mixed into one. Leaning down, Numair kissed her carefully, his hand resting lightly on her cheek. Daine tugged on his shirt, demanding more, grazing his lips with her teeth. But Numair forced himself to stop again, still holding her face and breathing like he'd run a marathon. Because it felt like he had, in a way.

"I had to make sure I wasn't just dreaming," he murmured, brushing his thumb back and forth over her heated skin.

"You dream of me?" Daine smiled coyly as she stood on her tiptoes. It almost brought their faces level, or at least, it brought them close enough that Daine's nose bumped against his chin.

A smile stretched across Numair's face, too; sudden warmth filled his entire body, despite the chilly air – and his mind was still blissfully blank. "Um - occasionally," he said. Daine laughed.

It wasn't until Numair's hands found their way to her wild hair that he remembered they were standing, soaked, in the middle of the ocean. And it was this realization that kicked his mind back into reality – _he had kissed her._ Daine, his student, his friend, fourteen years younger than him. Fourteen goddamn years. The girl he had met when he'd found her alone in his truck. The girl who had been forced to grow up early, and who he'd started to love without even noticing. Numair almost dropped his hands from her damp hair, but he could see a change in her glittering gaze as she, too, seemed to wake to the world.

Before Numair could say a word, her fingers flew to his lips. "Talk later," she ordered in a quiet tone – a tone that was nonetheless commanding.

Numair raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Her fingertips were salty with ocean water, just like her lips had been, and he'd do anything to feel them again. He knew he would. Numair offered Daine his hand, which she took with a smile, and he led her out of the water to dry ground. Shells crunched under their feet, and the sand was hot from a day in the sun, even with cool breezes. Daine swung their hands as they walked. When they were back in Numair's old truck – wet, sandy, stunned – Daine ignored her seatbelt and scooted as close as she could to Numair's side until he was forced to raise his arm and lay it around her shoulders. Ocean water dripped from her hair onto his rolled-up sleeves. Tilting his head, Numair studied her closed eyes and traced her flushed cheeks, watching as a smile twitched on her face.

It was one of those things that seemed too good to be true, Numair thought vaguely. He still believed – still _knew_ – that he shouldn't be doing this. It was _wrong_, to be in love with her. So horribly wrong. But she'd kissed him first, hadn't she? That had to mean something. Daine was too smart to do something she hadn't thought through at some point. Too smart to make bad decisions about something so important. But it was all so _difficult._ Confusing.

Numair started the car and headed back, Daine comfortable under his arm. It was like she _fit_ there; everything was matched perfectly. His gaze flicked from the road to her as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

Talking could come later.


	6. VI

**A/N:** A little bit shorter than previous chapters, but a lot of scenes to enjoy! Some light, some serious, a little bit of everything. Again, I hope you all like how I'm doing this. A few more chapters and ideas in mind. Another big moment for them in the next chapter! Thank you all readers and reviewers, keep it up!

**EDITED**

* * *

When they got back, Daine suggested they go outside to the back, for it was too nice a day to waste inside. They stretched out casually in the backyard, laying side-by-side with their heads touching as if they were stargazing at a bright, cloudless sky. Daine watched two birds spiral through the sky, falling behind trees and then rising back up again in rapid twists and turns. Numair was looking up too, but his gaze kept flickering back to Daine, peaceful beside him.

She flipped on her side so she was facing him. "What are you thinking?"

"About what?"

"About anything. Preferably something about us, though, considering that's kind of important right now."

Numair smiled, turning his head so he could see her more clearly. She was grinning too, her eyes gleaming.

"You can read my mind," Numair said. Reaching out, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, pulling back slowly and leaving his face close. Her breath was warm and sweet, and when he looked at her again, her cheeks had just the faintest bit of a pink tinge.

"So?" she said at last, sounding slightly breathless. "Do you think this will work?"

That was the question. It was simple, a yes or a no, and Numair didn't know the answer. He knew what he _wanted_. But that wasn't always the same as reality. He let his fingers brush lightly across her face, trying to read the emotions in her eyes. They looked like an ocean now, wilder and even more unpredictable than a storm. But even more beautiful, too.

"I don't know," Numair said bluntly. "I want it to. That's all I know."

"Me too."

"Is that all we need?"

Daine paused. She looked down at the overgrown, itchy grass, then back at his face. Numair still couldn't read her eyes, but her hand moved to whisk across his cheek. "It's enough for now," she murmured.

Numair smiled. Catching her fingers in his, he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her palm, keeping his eyes on her darkening cheeks and flashing eyes as he did so. "I'm glad," he said against her skin. Daine smirked at him.

"Do you know what I just thought of?"

"What?"

"I can't wait to see Onua's face when she finds out about this."

Numair couldn't suppress a sudden snort of laughter.

* * *

"You're taking this remarkably calmly, you know."

"Well, I can't say I'm overly surprised," Onua said, grinning. "I'm proud of you, though, Numair – I never would have thought you'd have had the guts."

"I'm glad to know you think so highly of me," muttered Numair. Daine had to practically shove her fist in her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

"Was it really so obvious?" Numair asked, rubbing the back of his neck and looking slightly embarrassed. "How could _you_ know, when neither of us had exactly thought it through, or - "

"Because you think too much," said Onua scathingly. "It can make you miss out on life sometimes. _Now_ you know that the best things happen when you finally stop thinking. I say you two just continue to not think and therefore live happily ever after, because if you start worrying again, you'll make everything a hell of a lot harder for yourselves."

"We didn't come here for relationship advice," muttered Daine.

"Well, that's what you're going to get from someone who knows you just a little too well," Onua said, glancing between both Daine and Numair. "You guys clicked from the moment you met. Daine, you trusted him, and Numair, you were fascinated by her." The woman gave a casual shrug. "After a few years, I could see that it was only a matter of time. Odd to think about, at first, but it works with you two."

"This was definitely not what I excepted," Daine murmured to Numair out of the corner of her mouth.

"Me neither," he replied.

Onua glared at them. "I'm doing my best here!"

"Sorry!"

Shrugging, Onua stood and dug in her pocket for some cash to put on the table to pay for her drink. When that was done, she looked over them carefully one last time, her critical eyes lingering longer on Numair than on Daine. "I trust you," she said at last. "You'd better do this right."

With that, she was off, waving amiably over one shoulder as she went. Numair and Daine were left staring after her, blinking confusedly. "Well. That was interesting."

"Indeed it was." Numair rubbed his temples, tilting his head to look at Daine. "Who else will know?"

"Miri will force the truth out of me as soon as I see her. Nothing I can do about that. At the moment, though, I don't know how well this'll all go over with a more general audience."

"Maybe you're right. Shall we keep it quiet for now?"

"As quiet as these things can stay," sighed Daine. Quiet never seemed to last long.

* * *

He didn't come to the door when she knocked; instead, Daine heard a tired voice telling her to go ahead and come in. Frowning, she fumbled with the doorknob until she could push her way in, navigating through the hallway to Numair's living room. Her teacher was stretched out across the couch, a bag of half-melted ice on his head and his eyes closed. He was wearing dirty clothes and his hair was completely disheveled; he looked like he was some sort of weekend pickup at a roadside gas station. She stared, her mouth open slightly.

"I thought you were having dinner with a bunch of molecular physicists last night," she accused, but she couldn't prevent her lips from turning up in a smile.

Numair opened one eye narrowly, squinting at her as if even the dull lamplight was still too much. "I _was_. I didn't know physicists could drink."

"Well, then. We learn something new every day."

"Indeed we do. Can you – not talk so loud? Please?"

"Sure," Daine said, dropping her voice to an almost-whisper. She lifted the bag of cold water-ice from his forehead. "You've got a headache?"

"A miserable one. No lessons for you today."

"Because you're hungover."

"Shh."

Daine laughed, quickly smothering the sound so as not to make his head throb any more. She put the bag back on his forehead and kissed his cheek.

"Don't you dare do this," Numair muttered grumpily, "for another four years, all right?"

"Such a great role model you are."

Numair just groaned, rubbing his temples with his hands. "I can't think right now."

Standing up, Daine considered him carefully for a moment. Then, in one swift motion, she grabbed the bag of ice water, unzipped it, and dumped the entire thing directly over Numair's head.

"What the - ?!"

Numair spluttered, jerking upright and gasping. He coughed, dripping wet, and shook his head fiercely, then glared up at Daine. "What was that for?!"

"It worked, didn't it?" grinned Daine. Numair just cursed, staggering to his unsteady feet. He didn't move with any of the grace that his lanky body usually possessed. Daine pressed her hands against his damp chest to steady him. His arms caught hers by the elbows, keeping her close.

"I'll get you back for this," he grumbled.

His proximity made Daine's heart beat suddenly faster. "I'm terrified," she said sarcastically. Numair just rolled his eyes. He took one hand from her elbow to rub his forehead; apparently, the problem wasn't completely solved.

"Sorry if that made it worse," apologized Daine.

"No, I'm fine," Numair assured her. He caught her elbow again and leaned down, catching her mouth in a kiss, his lips warms and soft, though she could still taste stale drink on his breath. They eased over hers, gentle and careful, retreating for just the tiniest of seconds and then coming back, leaving Daine helpless, like jelly in his arms. He let out a small laugh. "See. I'm not the only drunk one here."

Daine grinned against his lips. She couldn't deny it. She was drunk on him; his hands running from her elbows to her back, their bodies pressed close, their lips tangling. Thinking about it, Daine decided she couldn't exactly berate him for being hungover. She enjoyed this kind of drunk far too much to blame him for enjoying any other kind, after all.

* * *

A soft creak made Numair look up; the room was so dark that he couldn't discern anything past his bedpost. Effervescent moonlight and starlight glittered through his windows, but there was nothing illuminated by them that was out-of-the-ordinary. Everything was like it always was. His bookshelves were messy, his clothes were cast all over the floor, his closet door and main door were both open. The many papers scattered over his desk did not hide the tiny red, flashing light that meant that he had, accidentally, left his computer on all night. But other than that, nothing was moving. And then someone stepped out of the darkness; the soft light cast a glow over her skin and set her face into shadow. She stepped forward, a cautious look in her clouded eyes. It was Daine, wearing a white tank top and long, plaid-patterned pajama pants. The rolled-up bottoms that let her bare feet just barely poke out looked damp and muddy. Her hair was tousled and windswept. Shivering, she rubbed her arms and looked carefully at Numair.

Numair scrambled to a sitting position, his heart pounding. She looked too beautiful in the moonlight.

"Daine? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to be with you," she said simply, meeting his eyes. "Is that so bad?"

"No," he said at once. "No, not at all."

She smiled, and walked over to the bed with light, silent footsteps. Before Numair could protest, she slipped in beside him and curled up under the blankets, her head barely brushing his chest. Her skin was icy cold. Numair didn't mind, he only worried; she had to have been exposed to the night air for too long. Out of instinct, Numair wrapped his arms around her small form, holding her close. A soft sigh whispered against his neck where her face rested. She was so tender in his arms.

"I'm glad you're here, Numair," she said quietly. A shiver raced up his spine.

"You shouldn't be here," he murmured, threading his fingers soothingly through her hair. Despite his words, Numair made no move to release her from his arms, and Daine just laughed, shaking her head.

"I know you too well. You're only saying that because you think you have to."

Numair felt a kiss linger on his cheek. Then Daine pulled away, her eyes bright in the darkness. Lifting a hand, Numair ran his fingers lightly over her lips and tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear, his heart splitting.

"But it's true," he said quietly. "You shouldn't be here."

For a fraction of a second, fleeting uncertainty flashed across Daine's features. But then Numair lifted her chin, and, without paying any heed to his better judgment or heart, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, soft and sure. Daine did not protest; her hands moved to tangle in his hair, her body curved close to his, and all the while she was kissing him fiercely, demanding more than he could give. Sparks rocketed around in Numair's mind like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was like swimming in fire, running in a storm, falling through the sky. He had to stop – he knew couldn't do this, he _knew_ it had to stop. It had to. Her hands feathered over his face, barely touching, so faint he hardly could tell they were there.

She was too close, too beautiful.

With enormous effort, Numair pulled away, breathing in sharply to fill empty lungs. Looking up, he could see that Daine too was breathing hard, her gaze suddenly strong and challenging.

"Stop," Numair said, his voice low. "Daine, I can't – you've got to stop."

"Why?"

Her voice was quiet and calm, as if it were a simple throwaway question of no great importance. But both of them knew that it wasn't. Both of them knew what it held. He could hear the suppressed emotions of fear, love, intensity, desire. Everything. It was too hard for Numair to think straight; his thoughts were muddled by her slender form curled under his arms, close to his body. Her head rested on his chest, right above his thundering heart. She had to be able to hear it and feel the longing that ran through his veins like wildfire.

"Daine," he murmured, his lips against her hair. She smelled like subtle shampoo and the outdoors, nature at its finest. "Not now, all right?"

"But why, Numair?" Now her voice was harder, and she sat up to glare at him through the darkness. "I know how you are. There has to be a reason."

"Because," breathed Numair. "If this goes any farther, I can't guarantee that I will be completely in control of my actions for much longer."

"But why do you have stay in control?"

"Because it's _illegal_, maybe?" hissed Numair. He hated himself just a moment later when he saw Daine flinch from his words. Reaching out a hand, he touched her face carefully. Daine sighed.

"I'll be eighteen in six months," she muttered irritably. "How can that make so much of a difference, Numair? I don't even have a legit birth certificate, anyway, so really - "

"It makes a difference to my conscience, my dear. And to the cops."

Daine just sighed again. But she dropped the argument, sliding back down and letting Numair hold her once more. Her breath tickled the skin at his collar, making his heart race and his mind cloud over. _This will not be easy_. How did they end up like this? Most situations were reversed – the guy arguing for, the girl arguing against. Numair let out a long, soothing breath, deciding that it only made sense, with how strange it all was for them in the first place.

"Do you promise, then?" asked Daine. "This is so not normal, you know. You won't make up another excuse once I'm eighteen, will you?"

"I promise, I won't. Do you think this is easy for me? I shouldn't even let you _be_ here, remember?"

His words were whispered lightly into her ear, and Numair felt a sort of shiver run down her back as she shifted in his arms. "Is this all right, then?" she asked, a slight hint of breathlessness creeping into her tone. "Just this?"

"I can deal with this," murmured Numair, running a hand over her back. There was a pause.

"This is what I want, then," Daine stated, curling close to him. Numair wrapped an arm around her and kissed her ear.

"You don't even _know _what you do to me sometimes, Daine."

"You started it."

"That's not fair. You were the one who came here."

She gave a little laugh, and her hand found his somewhere under the sheet. She wrapped her small fingers around it, and then lifted their clasped hands to her chest. She pressed his palm flat over her heart so that Numair could feel her heartbeat. It was fast, but steady, every touch like the tap of a finger on a cold window. Numair's breath caught in his throat.

"This is enough."


	7. VII

**A/N:** A little bit of a short chapter, but again, I hope the material will make up for it. Enjoy, my amazing readers and reviewers! Maybe two or three more chapters to go.

**EDITED**

* * *

People began to pour in at around a quarter-past six – "fashionably late," they all claimed. It made Daine sigh, though she had to suppress an amused grin. Numair, however, didn't show up until half-past. The party was at his house, even. Yet he'd been gone all day, saying he was leaving to give Daine and Onua the space to prepare in peace, but Daine suspected that he had some sort of ulterior motive. It would be typical of him. Her heart pounded. She hadn't seen him all day. He could've at least had the decency to show up on time. At her feet, a fluffed-up Cloud purred sympathetically, and Daine sighed.

A few knocks sounded over the budding party's clamor, and Daine hurried to open the door. Thirty minutes late, it was Numair, grinning sheepishly with flowers in one hand and thankfully, no garishly wrapped present like everyone else had brought. Daine's heart leapt in her chest. He looked far too attractive, she thought – in dark jeans and a dress shirt, his typical casual-formal wear, as he called it. A promise glimmered behind his eyes. He pressed a light kiss to her cheek as he walked in to his house. "Sorry I'm late," he said, the sheepish grin back in place.

"You'd better be," retorted Daine. "At least everyone else had the decency to only be fifteen minutes late. You, on the other hand, are about - "

"I apologize, I apologize," Numair said hurriedly. Before he could say anything else, he was accosted by Onua, while Daine was heralded by her two friends, Miri and Evin. They were grinning broadly, excited for her – Daine's heart was warmed at the sight of them. Miri started off with a long, happy stream of words, some of which Daine didn't catch through her enthusiasm.

"Oh, Daine, this is great, you're _finally_ eighteen – this is a great little get-together! I haven't seen some of these people in ages. Did you make all the food? You and Onua? Well, whoever did, it's _fabulous_. My God, look at all the gifts! You're going to have some serious present-opening to do. Will you do that here? Or when everyone's gone? If you don't do it here, you have to tell me what you get. Eighteen's a big one, you know, so I better - "

"Miri, let her breathe!" interrupted Evin, smiling apologetically at Daine.

"It's all right," Daine said. "I'm just surprised you're this hyper, Miri. Onua would never let you have a glass of champagne."

"I know! It's so not fair. Drinking age should be eighteen anyway. I bet Numair would let you have a glass."

"Miri!"

"I'm just saying."

Daine dealt with much of the same as the night wore on - though, since it all came from her friends, it wasn't really so bad. She laughed and smiled, in awe at the massive mountain of presents that was building up near the food table. She figured she'd have to at least open some of them at home, without the guests, if she ever wanted the party to end. Eventually, people started to filter away, with many happy birthday wishes and hugs. Onua, Evin, and Miri stayed the latest, lounging in Numair's living room as if they never had any intention of leaving. Evin was dozing on Miri's shoulder while she flipped through a magazine. Numair and Onua were in large, comfy armchairs, laughing over their third glasses of champagne. Daine leaned against Numair's legs, folding the wrapping paper of all the presents she'd opened. Cloud was stretched out lazily over her toes.

"Didn't you get Daine a gift, Numair?" said Onua curiously. "I don't remember seeing you with one. Even you wouldn't skimp on something like this."

"No worries, I've got one."

Daine grinned up at him, shaking her head. "Numair, you know you didn't have to."

"I did anyway," he said. He winked and drew a tiny box from his pocket, black with a small red ribbon tied neatly around it. Daine frowned as he handed it to her, curious. She heard the distinctive rustle of pages as Miri dropped her magazine, clapping her hands together at the sight of another gift. Daine stuck her tongue out at her friend.

"You're more into this than I am," Daine said.

"Presents are exciting," asserted Miri happily. Evin gave a start and woke, glaring at her.

Laughing, Daine shook her head before turning back to the small gift. She pulled the ribbon off and let it flutter to the ground, then slipped off the cover of the little box. Inside were two stunning earrings, sapphire drops set against silver. They were small, but sparkling, perfectly shaped and glowing. Each one shimmered like rain. Miri gasped. Daine's mouth fell open as she lifted them.

"Numair, they're beautiful," she said breathlessly. "I – wow. Numair, you shouldn't have spent this much on me!"

"I thought they'd match your eyes," he replied, looking almost embarrassed again. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. "They reminded me of you."

Miri squealed in delight and rushed to Daine's side, gazing at the two jewels in awe. Evin was watching her irritably. "Jewelry isn't _that_ important," he muttered. Miri ignored him.

"Oh, Daine, these are _gorgeous,_" she gushed. "Wow. You have to wear these. They'll look amazing. Put them on!"

"Oh, but – what if something happens to them? What if I lose one?"

"What's the point of having jewelry if you don't wear it?" Miri scolded. "Here. Let me help you."

With Miri's help, Daine slipped the earrings on easily, though she still held them in her fingers as if they'd suddenly disappear if she let go. Miri gently pried her hands away and turned her face so that Numair could see. "Well? How do they look, Numair?"

Daine blushed and tried to glare at her friend. But Numair only laughed, bending down so that his face was just inches away from hers. There was a smile in his dark eyes, and he touched her cheek gently with one hand. "You look amazing, Daine," he said. He kissed her lightly, the sweetness of his breath tingling like bubbles on her lips. For a moment, she couldn't resist him; her mouth opened and the kiss deepened. They were interrupted, however, by a confused exclamation from Evin, who was then promptly slapped by Miri.

"I must have really missed something here," Evin said, frowning and looking at Miri. "Is this new, or am I just stupid?"

"You're just stupid," Miri and Onua said in unison.

"He's not stupid!" protested Daine. "He's just – well - "

"A little slow on the uptake," offered Numair.

"Or, in other words, stupid," agreed Miri.

"I don't know why I even bother," Evin muttered grumpily. Miri patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

Laughing, Daine turned back to her pile of wrapping paper, one hand fiddling idly with the sapphire earrings. Eventually, she took them off and placed them carefully in their dark velvet box, afraid she'd mess them up somehow if she kept wearing them. Miri scolded her for that. Night had fallen thick now, and with a glance out the window, Onua sighed and decided that it was probably time for her, Miri, and Evin to make their leave. Cloud had already fallen sound asleep by the warm fire.

"Thanks for everything," Daine said, giving her three friends a hug each. "It wouldn't have been the same without you."

Numair kissed Onua and Miri on the cheek – Miri pretending to swoon in the process, with a wink at Daine – and gave Evin a strong handshake. He, too, thanked them and waved them off, waiting until all three had vanished before closing the door. Daine sighed and turned towards the kitchen. "Could you clean up the rest of the living room while I work in here?"

"Of course."

In the kitchen, Daine pulled up a stool so she could reach the highest shelves of dishes that she had to clean and then put up. It was a tedious task, and she sighed, resigned to its completion before she'd be able to relax. She'd made her way through almost all the plates when warm hands suddenly settled on her waist, light and gentle. A shiver ran down her spine. Smiling slightly, she turned her head, and Numair's lips brushed against her neck. "Hey, Numair," Daine said, tall enough on the stool and close enough to him that the words were murmured against Numair's forehead.

"Done with the kitchen?"

"Done with everything that needs to be done."

Numair lifted her from the stool and set her back on the ground. He settled his hands on her waist, drawing her in closer. Daine let her head fall onto his chest, and she could hear his heart pounding almost as fast as hers. This was it. He knew it as well as she did. Taking a deep breath, Daine looked up, meeting his eyes with a question. "You know, Numair," she murmured, so softly that she was afraid he wouldn't be able to hear over the beating of her own heart. "You made me a promise."

"I know."

"Do you intend to keep it?"

He smiled slowly, and then tilted his head so that his lips caught hers. Sparks raced through Daine's veins from every place their bodies touched. Daine tugged at Numair's lower lip with her teeth, and Numair complied, letting the kiss intensify as his hands trailed up her sides and over her back. Moving her own hands, Daine tangled them in Numair's hair as he tipped her back a little, still holding her tightly. When they both came up for air, Numair's face remained only inches away from hers. His dark eyes were filled with warmth and desire, making Daine shiver with anticipation.

His lips brushed against her ear in a kiss. Daine could hardly think; she could scarcely breathe.

"I never break my promises," he whispered.

Daine barely noticed when they left the kitchen, left the living room, and emerged in Numair's bedroom. The room she'd been in so many times before, waking him up or cleaning the place or fetching some old book. Never like this. Numair's hands cupped her face, his gaze searching. Daine couldn't speak. Her drumming heart, like the never-ending pulse of the ocean tide, drowned out all thoughts. All she could do was nod, smile, and stand on her toes to bring her lips up to his for another dizzying, deep kiss. Numair trailed his fingers across her body. Daine fumbled with the top button on his shirt. But he just grabbed her fingers, turning to whisper words against her neck like phantom kisses. Daine's breath caught in her throat.

"Happy birthday, Daine."

* * *

The next morning, Numair woke before Daine did, blinking blearily as bright sunlight crept through the slivers of space in his window blinds. Beside him, Daine stirred in her sleep, drawing Numair's gaze to her calm face. He watched her, a smile stretching across his face. She was beautiful in the pale, new morning. Her tangled hair stuck out disgracefully in every direction, but her skin was perfect and smooth, her cheeks touched with just the tiniest bit of color. Dark eyelashes stood out above her face. On her neck, there was a dark spot that looked a bit like a bruise; she hadn't had that the night before, that was for sure. As he watched, Daine turned onto her side and cuddled in closer to him. _She must be cold, _thought one arm, Numair pulled the sheets and blankets up higher over them, so it covered her shoulders and arms. As he did so, she curled her hand into a loose fist and drew it up near her face, just like a small child, or a little animal scratching its nose. Numair shifted so that his arm was around her shoulders. He couldn't really tell if she was awake or not – her eyes were still closed, but her breathing was fast.

So many things had changed. So many questions echoed vaguely in the back of his mind, too distant to truly rise to the forefront during the peace and quiet of the young day. _What is she thinking? Does she regret this? Was this right?_ Numair knew that he _should_ worry about those things, or at least concentrate on them and address them to make sure nothing was wrong. But he couldn't bring himself to agonize over such things. Not when he looked at her face. She looked so calm and happy. And he would know for sure, either way, when she woke. Numair reached out and touched his fingers lightly to her forehead, brushing across her hairline, her eyebrows, her cheeks. Her lips twitched, and one stormy blue eye opened narrowly. There was an new glint in her gaze, like the sparkle of the sun off an icy path. "Good morning, Daine," murmured Numair, his fingers frozen at her temple.

"You too," she said. Her eyes closed again, but her smile widened as she shifted her body to fit against his, her head under the crook of arm. Numair felt her hand find his, and their fingers, too, fit together as nothing else ever had. Absentmindedly he rubbed his thumb back and forth across her palm. That tiny motion made her grin, a lazy happiness glittering in her eyes as she looked at him. She turned to kiss a mark on his collarbone. It was a scratch she'd left sometime during the night, whether with fingernails or teeth, it was hard to tell. Numair laughed.

"Well done, my dear."

"I didn't mean to. It's not like I've done this before. You, on the other hand - "

"Don't go there," muttered Numair, feeling a twinge as he was reminded of his past. But Daine just smiled coyly, her cheeks slightly flushed as she gave his hand a little squeeze.

"I don't mind at all. Probably made it better for me, anyway."

"Shh." Numair placed a sudden finger to her lips. "Let the past remain in the past. All that matters is now, all right?"

There was a pause before Daine answered. When she did, Numair could see something shining in her eyes that made the now-familiar spark shoot through his body; something warm and unique that made him love her all the more. She touched his face and kissed him, her lips tasting sweet and tingly. "Now," she murmured thoughtfully.


	8. VIII

**A/N:** A very long chapter - and the second to last one, too. The next/last chapter will be pretty short, though. So enjoy this length! Thank you so much again to all wonderful people reading and reviewing this!

**EDITED**

* * *

The afternoon was warm and sunny, like every other day had been over the past few months. Wispy, feather-like clouds floated across the sapphire sky. Looking up, Daine felt the warmth shine on her face, and she soaked in every drop she could. Summer was her favorite season, she decided. Because it was always warm, it was always bright; animals were always around. Flowers bloomed and children laughed – it was impossible not to enjoy summer. She was sitting at a white, circular table in the center of a broad courtyard, sipping iced tea and watching people pass by, jogging in the park or walking dogs or simply relaxing in the sunshine. There were lots of full, chattering tables around her; people tending to congregate at the courtyard to buy tea and lemonade. The park was mostly open grass up to the sidewalks by the road, where busy cars sped from traffic light to traffic light with the occasional screech or honk. Scattered here and there in the park were thin, lanky trees, mostly scraggly-looking oaks. A few dirt paths zigzagged through the field. Almost all the park-goers were strolling along the paths, though a few ventured into the well-watered grass, playing catch with their kids and shouting happily. Daine swirled her straw around in her tea, making the ice cubes clink and glimmer. The taps on the glass made a sound like a piano key with every turn. Across the table, Numair leaned back in a wrought-iron chair and grinned at her, his dark eyes sparkling. All of a sudden, the park disappeared around her. Putting her elbows on the table, Daine leaned forward and rested her chin her hands, smiling back at him as she did so. Numair dropped his chair back down to the ground, and he leaned forward too, bringing their faces inches apart. Without warning, he lifted his hands to cup her face, and he kissed her, his lips curling into a smile as they eased gently over hers.

When they broke apart, Daine raised her eyebrows at him, suppressing a smile of her own. He was usually reserved around her in public; he knew what people thought. But this was different, for he was completely at ease, holding her hand without any concern or anxiety. "What was that for?" murmured Daine, speaking coyly into his shadow. Their faces were still playfully close, and Numair's eyes glittered with amusement.

"Because I love you," he said brightly.

Daine laughed, shaking her head. Numair only kissed her again, this time lingering longer before he pulled away and grinned even more broadly. "Love you too," replied Daine.

Numair picked up her hand, rubbing small, gentle circles into her palm. He didn't let go as they sat together, watching people pass and keeping an eye on the sun as it inched its careful arc through the sky. Turning her head, Daine squinted across the table. For all of them time that she had known him, there had been something lurking in the back of her mind, like an ocean creature that did not want to emerge from the deep. "Numair?" she asked, the word slipping out before she really had time to decide what she was going to say.

"Yes?" He tilted his head in question, but Daine looked away, down at their twined fingers, then away from that, too. With her free hand, she traced a path of moisture from her glass to the rim of the table, running damp fingers along the cool edge. She watched her own hand and spoke.

"How come you never asked me?"

"Asked you what?"

"You never asked what happened to me, or where my family was. When we first met, I mean."

Frowning, Numair reached out a hand and lifted her chin, so she was looking at him once again. The sparkles in his eyes had faded into a gentle light. They held a glow of concern, caring, sympathy, and everything else, all at once. Daine blinked, and Numair continued rubbing her palm, speaking casually for all that his serious eyes were fixated on her. "I figured… that if it was something I needed to know, you would choose when you wanted to tell me."

"When Onua asked me, I told her."

He considered this. When he moved his hand from her face, Daine didn't look away. "Were you never curious?" she asked quietly.

"I always wondered. I was always curious – but I wanted you to choose, you know?"

Daine nodded. "Yeah, I know." She rubbed at a dark spot on the table, pressing so hard that her finger started to feel raw. Sighing, she fished an ice cube out of her drink and held it against her fingertip, waiting for the sting to go numb. Daine closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and broke the barrier that she so often placed between herself and her memories. "I lived in a country-type area. Not in the big city, but not in the middle of nowhere, either. Just – rural. Bit like a ranch. With my mom, her dad – my grandfather – and my animals. I had a lot of pets; I had two dogs, three cats, two horses, and even a mouse that stayed in the basement. And Cloud, of course. I never met my father." She looked up, then back at her fingers. Numair reached out and brushed a strand of hair off of her face.

"When I was thirteen, in the summer there were at least four big forest fires in the woods around us. But we didn't go anywhere. Some people left because it was so hot and smoky, but we stayed. Grandda didn't like to move. It wasn't really a problem for a while, not until the very end of the summer, when most places started to get cool again. It was still too dry at home, and another fire started, this time close to us. We didn't know what to do. We should've left, like a lot of people did. There were state department guys on their way, we heard, but not fast enough. So we went down to the basement and waited. We thought that was the safest place. There wasn't much wood there, not like the rest of the house."

Even though the air was warm, she shivered. She dropped the ice cube and rubbed her arms instead, trying to keep herself warm. It wasn't good to feel cold on a day so sunny. She had to keep talking; it was easier now that she had started. "But then the smoke started coming through the crack under the door. We knew we had to get out, there were no windows or anything in the basement, so we had to go up. My mom opened the door – and there was fire, everywhere. Everything was gone. And I… I don't remember much, just the heat and flames and smoke. I don't know how I got out. I was holding Cloud, and my mom pushed me towards the front door. Somehow… I was outside. But they were still in there." She paused, shutting her eyes tight again.

"Daine?"

"I'm okay," she whispered. "Cloud and I – we tried to go back in. But everywhere there was fire; I got burned again and again, but I couldn't stop." Her arms moved to her sides, rubbing a place right above her waist where she could still see the fire's mark. "I kept trying until my someone was there. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back from the door, away from the flames. He burned himself to do it. And I thought at first he was there to help. As much as I could think. My ma, my grandda, all my animals… all except Cloud, they were in there. In the fire. Even the horses, in the stables. I couldn't help them. But the man – whoever he was – he pushed me to the ground and stood over me. I had time to look around and I saw that none of the trees around my house was burning. Just my house. He pulled a lighter and a box of matches from his pocket, and he had a backpack with a thing of gasoline in it. He dropped them on the ground beside me and wrapped my fingers around the lighter."

Now Numair moved. He rose from his chair and came over to her, pulling her onto her feet and into his arms. Her words became muffled against his chest, and Daine was grateful.

"I don't remember what happened next. I just know I saw the police and firefighters. They were coming to me. I didn't trust them, I knew what it all looked like, and I couldn't – I couldn't face it. I ran. Into the woods, as far as I could – they couldn't chase me, nobody one knows the forest like I did. I ran away from it all. I left them."

The arms around her tightened. Numair's voice was low and quiet, ridden with pain. "Daine…."

"I didn't know what else to do," she said breathlessly, looking up at him. She could feel the silent, slow tears on her face, and she didn't try to stop them. "I had no one and I didn't want to leave everything I knew. But someone – that man – I don't know why he started the fire. But I knew they'd be looking for me instead. I had to keep running. I ran away, scared and helpless."

"You weren't running away."

"Then what was I doing?" Daine's voice caught in her throat. She looked away from him, biting her lip and cursing. "I didn't do anything to help them. I didn't even try."

"You were protecting yourself," he murmured, brushing his thumb across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. "There's a difference. You tried, Daine, you did everything you could."

A moment passed, where the sounds of the park and people around them seemed to come back to life. Birds were cawing and chirping from the tall trees, and laughter and little snippets of conversations floated through the air. Even the buzzing insects grew louder. Daine sighed, resting her head back on Numair's chest. She was aware of people watching them, but only in a small, distant part of her mind. The rest of her didn't care. "It doesn't matter anymore," she said slowly. "Not now. It's over. It's forgotten about."

"It always matters, Daine. Always."

Daine closed her eyes. She knew that.

"I'm glad you told me," murmured Numair from above her, his voice soft and gentle.

"Yeah," she said. "Me too."

* * *

She woke covered in nervous sweat, breathing hard like she'd just run a mile. She gasped in mouthful after mouthful of cold, clean air, the scratch of smoke lingering in her throat. Flames danced in her vision, then vanished, the darkness impenetrable.

_I'm scared. I'm lost, alone, terrified. There has to be someone – somewhere – nowhere –_

Everything was hot, burning; her side stung, and she winced. Cold rushed over her as she shook her head fiercely. The memories fought back, and she let out a small cry, barely able to maintain the wall against them. She felt the tips of the fire trying to push through to devour her.

_I won't let them. No – it won't happen, it hasn't happened –_

Suddenly strong arms enveloped her, and she curled into them at once, letting her shelter chase away the pain. Gentle words whispered against her ear. She closed her eyes and listened, letting the memories wash away.

"You're all right, Daine. It's over. I'm here."

She opened her eyes, and there was no more fire, no more pain, no more fear.

He was there.

* * *

"If you keep this up, we'll have an aviary in here sometime soon," said Numair, very dryly.

"Two birds doesn't make the place an aviary," retorted Daine. "Numair, he's hurt. I can't take him to the shelter, the dogs and cats would tear him apart. Cloud's fine with birds, but the others aren't so much. Please, Numair?"

She wasn't just holding some injured songbird like she was the last time, though. That little bird that she'd gotten a few weeks ago was hopping on the kitchen counters at the moment, its hurt foot bound in a tiny bandage, tiny wings fluttering to help it move. For some reason, it never tried to fly away. But the animal in Daine's arms now was far from a cute, harmless sparrow. Sharp eyes seemed to pierce daggers at Numair, the frightening sight made complete by a vicious-looking beak and powerful claws. Numair didn't know how Daine managed to hold the thing. It was some sort of hawk, or more likely a falcon, based on its size and coloring. It was mostly grey, with a white belly and darker flecks around the wings and face. Daine was cradling it like a baby. There was something wrong with one of its wings. It was twisted at an odd angle, and when Daine shifted her arms, the falcon cried out in pain. Daine winced at the sound. She looked up fiercely at Numair once more. "Please, Numair! You've got to help me. You can't just let him suffer."

"Fine, fine!" consented Numair, holding up his hands in defeat. "Of course we can try and treat him, but – you know he can't stay."

Daine didn't look happy, but it she seemed to decide not to press the matter until the falcon's wing was properly set. Numair located what supplies he could and handed them over to Daine. With the gentle hands of a natural, she laid the falcon down on the table and spread its wing, careful not to strain the broken bones too much or pinch any feathers. She took the gauze Numair had brought and slipped it in diagonals around the feathers and bone. Every now and then, the falcon would screech in pain, and Daine would bend and whisper gentle words to calm him. It was astonishing, how easily she handled the animal, talking to him as if he were any other human. Numair smiled widely when she was finished, the bird's wing bound firmly to his body so that he couldn't move it and injure it further before it finished healing. Daine lifted the falcon on her arm again, wearing an extra shirt around her wrist so the talons didn't hurt her. One of his old shirts, Numair noticed bemusedly.

"There," Daine said soothingly, brushing a finger across the top of the falcon's head. "That wasn't so bad, now, was it?"

"He looks happier already," Numair agreed. Daine nodded, and Numair noticed that she, too, looked far more cheerful than she had before. He walked over and held a cautious hand out to the falcon, looking up questioningly at Daine before moving any closer. Daine nodded. Numair ran his fingers over the falcon's smooth feathers, surprised at their softness.

"I had already washed him up a little before I came in," explained Daine. "He wouldn't feel so pretty if I hadn't. Careful, don't touch the underside of his neck."

Numair yanked his fingers back as the falcon snapped at him. "Thanks for the warning," he said dryly, but Daine just laughed and patted the bird.

"See, you two are kicking it off already. Please, Numair – you _have_ to let him stay until he'll better. You let Twig stay."

Twig, the little sparrow still on the counter, hopped up and down on one leg as if to confirm Daine's statement. Numair sighed and attempted to explain. "A sparrow is completely different than a falcon, Daine. How could we give it the care it needs? Falcons are protected as a threatened species. It's _illegal_ to be found holding one."

"It's a _he_, for one thing. You and your issues with illegal things. It's really annoying, you know."

"I'm sorry if my inclination to obey laws bothers you," Numair said shortly. Daine glared at him, and he threw up his hands again, relenting. "Look, I just don't want to end up with cops at our door, all right?"

For a moment, she didn't respond. Then she broke eye contact, glanced out the window, and then at the floor. Her shoulders slumped, and the falcon let out a soft cry. "Fine," Daine said, her tone flat. She sighed resignedly and looked back up. "You're right. I'll call that shelter that's for threatened and endangered species."

Numair blinked. She _never_ gave in that easily. "Daine – are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course I'm sure," she said shortly. But Numair wasn't fooled – there was something else she wasn't telling him. He could see it in her eyes.

"Daine," he began slowly, "what's the matter? What made you change your mind so fast?"

"Cops," she muttered without looking at him. "I hate cops. Policemen, law enforcement officials, anyone like that."

"Because... of your home?" Numair asked carefully.

"Not just that. That's part of it, though."

"What's the other part?"

"I hate seeing cops. I hate the way they look at you," she said at last. "When you're with me, I mean. It's like they think you're some stalker, or one of those damn perverts they tell little kids about in sex-ed movies. It's stupid. We've passed them in town before and they always look at you like that."

Numair blinked. "That – that bothers you?"

"More than anything. It's people who don't know anything about you making wrong assumptions, and they're too close-minded to think they might possibly be making a mistake," she spat, glaring at the ground. After a moment, she sighed, shifting the falcon so it rested more comfortably in her arms. "I'm ranting. I'll call the shelter."

"Daine, wait," Numair said suddenly. "I've changed my mind. We can keep the falcon, if you want."

"What?"

"I know you can take of it. And we'll just take our chances on the police."

"Him, not it," said Daine, frowning at Numair. "But, Numair, I just said - "

Numair placed a hand over her lips and smiled. He stepped close to her, careful to still give the falcon and its claws plenty of breathing room. But he held Daine's face in his hands and looked right into her eyes, serious now. "You, my dear, are the most amazing woman any man could ever dream of having. Cops annoy you – because you want to defend _me_. If you feel that angry – on _my_ behalf – what right do I have to deny you this? If you want to keep the falcon, you can. If the cops come and start glaring at me, you can happily kiss me right in front of them and then laugh at the looks on their faces."

Daine stared. Her expression changed, but slowly – the stubborn anger melting smoothly into grateful amusement. A smile twitched at the corner of her lips. "Thanks, Numair," she said grudgingly. She raised herself on her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, prevented from doing more by the extraordinarily patient bird still cradled in her arms.

"You're very welcome," called Numair as Daine walked away to put the falcon in a soft pallet-like nest thing that she'd set up on the table. Most of its contents were, again, Numair's old shirts. When she'd made sure the bird was comfortable and getting ready for a nap, Daine walked back to Numair and tugged on his shirt, a gleam in her eyes.

"I should probably get over my annoyance with the cops," she said thoughtfully. "It's not like they can arrest us. You, I mean. Other than for keeping the falcon. That can be my fault, but you - you're not a bad person. They've got nothing against you."

"Not a bad person?" Numair pulled Daine close to him, his hands settling around her waist. He titled his head so that their noses barely touched; just a sliver of space remained between them for air to pass through. "I honor you for your faith in me. I can be bad, you know."

"Really?"

"Very, _very_ bad. If you want me to be."

Daine grinned against his lips. "Good," she whispered. "Being bad is good every once in a while, after all."


	9. IX

**A/N:** This is the final chapter, very short, but I have to close it somehow. I hope you all have enjoyed reading this; maybe it's opened some more people up to the concept of modern AUs. Huge thanks to all my amazing reviewers. If you have any suggestions, comments, prompts, requests or anything, please feel free to leave a review! Thank you all very much, and I hope you like this last chapter.

**EDITED**

* * *

Daine scribbled idly on some piece of paper at the dinner table, frowning and biting her lip as she worked. Numair didn't even know what she was working on so vociferously. But whatever it was, it seemed to be causing her a great deal of frustration because he could hear Cloud purring sympathetically by her elbow, and he could hear irritated, confused mutters every now and then, too. Eventually, she let out a groan and pushed the papers away. "This process is insane," she growled, sounding just like an angry tiger. "How am I supposed to do this, Numair? It's _crazy_."

"Do what?"

"I'm finally doing what you keep telling me to do," she sighed. She held up the book that was beside her – a guide to colleges and universities.

"Really? Daine, that's fantastic!" exclaimed Numair, dropping the box of rice he'd been about to fix. He rushed over to her and bent to examine the papers strewn over the tabletop. "What places are you looking at? In-state, or - "

"All local places," she said resolutely. "Don't be an idiot, Numair. If it meant moving out there'd be no chance."

Numair looked at her, surprised. "Are you sure, Daine? There are so many great places out-of-state; staying local limits your options so much." The words came out of his mouth practically of their own volition. Numair cursed inside his head. He wanted the best for her – but if she actually _did_ leave to go to school? Just the thought made his heart pang.

"I'm sure," she replied. Her tone made it clear that the topic was no longer up for discussion. She found his hand and weaved their fingers together, though she was still distracted by the papers and guidebook. "_You_ are far more important to me than school, Numair."

"I would feel honored, except that I know exactly how little you care for school."

Daine stuck her tongue out. Numair grinned and kissed her lightly on the cheek as she continued, pointing to the more official-looking papers on the table, which were parts of the actual applications for three different schools. "These are the places I found which looked okay," she explained. "And affordable."

"Money won't be a problem. My promise."

"Numair - "

"No point in arguing," he said innocently. "I'm not going to change my mind, so you might as well continue. What were you saying?"

"What I was saying," continued Daine, though she still looked a little vexed, "was that I found these places, right? But this process – all the crap you have to do to apply – it's insane. It would take _so_ long, and I barely have a chance anyway, since I never actually graduated from high school."

"Don't say that. If you get Onua to write you a recommendation, and they see your job records, they'll be _begging_ for you to come."

"Yeah, right," retorted Daine. Then she sighed, her irritation slowly dissipating as she looked at all the papers. "Numair, this is crazy. Why can't I just go to _your_ college? Where you teach, I mean? You know the admissions people; you could get me in. And I learn so much from you, so I'd be in your class have one teacher, at least, that I'm used to, and - "

"Definitely not an option," said Numair flatly.

"Why not?"

"One, I am _not_ allowed to influence the admissions office because I know you – don't get started on my issues with illegal things, by the way. I don't care if it happens all the time in other universities – and two, even if you did go there, you couldn't be in my class."

"Again, why not?"

"Because teachers aren't allowed to have relationships with students."

Daine groaned and glared at him. "You are _so_ _infuriating_ sometimes," she grumbled.

"I do my best," said Numair dryly. With an almost imperceptible smile, he shrugged, staring vaguely out the window. "That's not the only reason, though. That you can't attend, I mean."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"What's the other reason, then?"

Numair pulled her to her feet, his hands on her elbows. Daine tripped and faltered a little as she stood, but Numair was there to stop her from falling. She pressed her hands against his chest. Numair's head tilted down a little, his forehead barely skimming hers. "Because if I were your teacher," he began, the words sweeping lightly against her lips, "I think I might be a bit biased, don't you?"

"Maybe just a little," she said breathlessly. She could feel a hot rush on her cheeks, but rather than standing on her tiptoes to kiss him, Daine laid her head wearily on his chest and sighed. "Numair, you know I'd only ever go to school if you were teaching me."

"I know," murmured Numair.

"I thought about other schools, other places." Daine shook her head. "I don't want to do anything that would mean spending less time with you."

"I don't know if I should be happy or sad about that," joked Numair. Daine only sighed again, resigned, but she was smiling now, too, and she took a quick look back up at him and squeezed his hand.

"Thank you," she said, pressing a swift kiss to his lips.

"For what?"

"Just - for understanding. Thank you."

* * *

They were back in their favorite afternoon relaxation spot, the wide park with the scraggly trees, lemonade-and-iced-tea courtyard, and lush, verdant fields. A young couple walked past them, smiling, hand in hand. As they passed, a glitter from the woman's hand caught the sunlight and twinkled in their eyes. She wore a shining silver ring, complete with the small but splendid diamond in the center. Her eyes glowed as she glanced at the man she walked next to, and his gaze, too, were bright as he looked at her. Both smiled and strode past, oblivious to world around them. Numair took a fleeting look across the table at Daine, seeing that her eyes, too, were following the ring on the woman's hand. Her gaze was calm and thoughtful. "Have you ever wanted that?" asked Numair, his tone casual.

Daine simply shrugged, her gaze still contemplative. "Every girl dreams," she said at last. "Dreams of the perfect guy coming to sweep her off her feet; the guy to run away into the sunset with. Fairytale-type ending, you know. With a beautiful dress and beautiful ring to top it all off."

"What did you dream of?"

"Pretty much the same thing as that. A sort of knight-in-shining-armor deal."

"So," said Numair mischievously, "how does reality compare?"

"You mean you?" replied Daine, grinning.

"Of course."

"Better," she said firmly. "Knights are boring after a while."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Numair, warmth filling his body even in the evening's breeze. He leaned towards her, with the full intention of kissing her chastely on the cheek. But turned her head so that their lips met instead, a deep, steady kiss that Numair knew would make people stare. But he didn't mind at all. Daine's hand curled around his, her palms calloused, but smooth.

"You're more than I could have ever dreamed up, you know," Daine murmured affectionately. "Different, too, that's for sure."

"I call it uniqueness, my dear. You're the one who I am amazed that I was lucky enough to find."

"Whatever," laughed Daine.

In spite of himself, Numair looked back at the two people they'd seen, aware that Daine was following his gaze. The couple was almost completely out of sight now. Running a hand over Daine's hair, Numair tried with all his might to read her expression, her thoughts. She turned to face him, composed and unruffled. "You know I love you more than anything," she said matter-of-factly. "But, Numair - will you wait for me?"

Numair paused, giving himself the time to wrap his arm around her waist and press another kiss to her cheek, twining their fingers together too. A comfortable silence settled around them for a few seconds, nothing but the sound of distant cars and wind rushing through the grass. He kissed her ear before smiling and whispering, "Until the end of time, milady."

Daine collapsed into a very sudden fit of giggles. Her laughs resonated like clear, beautiful bells in Numair's ears, making him smile at just the sound. "That was quite corny, _Sir_ Numair," she joked.

"That's why I said it," Numair said merrily. "Forgive me?"

Daine let out a long, over-exaggerated sigh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She kissed his cheek, patted his head, and then settled back down into her chair and squeezed his hand. "You're forgiven," she said contentedly.


End file.
